


Shur'tugal and the Living Boy

by Solarisetlesetoiles



Series: Dragon Riders [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, M/M, Occasional swearing, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solarisetlesetoiles/pseuds/Solarisetlesetoiles
Summary: Murtagh and Thorn take Regulus to Ellesméra, but as it turns out, most people are still holding a grudge against them.Regulus unintentionally makes things worse when he bonds with a dragon.(5/3/19 Edit: no new content for chapter seven, just a message about the future of this fic).





	1. The Past Catches Up

**Author's Note:**

> Since people actually read my first work, here I am with the first chapter of the sequel :) I hope you enjoy it. As always constructive criticism is welcome. I have created some new characters but their only purpose is to create conflict. Constructive criticism on them is also welcome.

Wind blew around him.

In the distance a castle rose up from the ground. As if it had been called straight into being from the stone of its foundations.

In front of him stood a figure, their gaze cast to the sky, where hundreds of brightly colored dragons flew, a living rainbow, wings beating out the sound of thunder.

Fondness swept through him, and he knew that all would be well.

***

Regulus was going to be the death of Murtagh.

He seemed to have no fear of falling. Twice during their flight to Ellesméra already, he had nearly plummeted to his death.

The first time was when he had leaned over Thorn’s side to goggle at the world far below them, and then leaned so far that he over balanced and slipped.

One would think, after that close encounter, he’d have been more careful. But alas, no sooner had Murtagh seated Regulus firmly back behind himself, had he nearly toppled off when Thorn had taken a rather steep drop.

Murtagh had spent most of their flight worrying about Regulus’ safety, while Thorn laughed at him and did several, very unnecessary, flight maneuvers. Which seemed to delight Regulus and made Murtagh’s stomach roll with nausea.

And now Regulus was had his arms raised, laughing with glee as Thorn took a steep dive down towards the elven capital, Ellesméra. 

Murtagh whipped around and grabbed Regulus’ arms, pinning them to his stomach so the boy was once again safely pressed against his back.

“Stop!” Murtagh ordered an unrepentant looking Regulus. The boy scrunched up his nose and scowled.

“Let him have his fun,” Thorn’s amusement poured through their bond, “He’s not going to fall.”

“You don’t know that,” Murtagh argued, “I didn’t go through all the trouble of saving him just for him to break his neck.”

He could feel Thorn’s exasperation, they’d had this argument several times throughout the trip, but he ignored his dragon.

In front of them Fírnen dipped beneath the trees. Thorn followed, and Murtagh felt Regulus lean into him as they landed.

Ellesméra was even fancier than Oslin, if that was possible, with intricate designs on buildings that looked like they’d been grown from the forest itself.

Murtagh felt his stomach clench with unease. Even though he had agreed to come, being in the heart of elven territory put him on edge.

Thorn hummed and sent a feeling of calm through their bond, “we are here to find out about our new friend,” he was referring to Regulus, “nothing bad will occur, you are worried for no reason,”

Murtagh wanted to believe him, but he still cast a glance around for danger regardless.

There was a crowd of elves watching them. They were quiet though, all well dressed and graceful.

It set Murtagh’s teeth on edge. He wanted to beg Thorn to fly away, to take them back to their peaceful life in the forest.

But he was reminded of the reason they were here in the first place as Regulus shifted behind him.

Murtagh drew in a breath and then dismounted from Thorn.

He could see Arya striding towards him in the periphery of his vision, but ignored her in favor of helping Regulus down.

The boy swatted at Murtagh’s hands as he tried to lower himself down Thorn’s side, but he slipped and Murtagh got smacked in the face by a flailing arm for his trouble.

Regulus’ face was slightly red from the wind, and his hair was a mess. Murtagh felt a stab of affection run through him.

From the few days he’d know the other, Regulus was shown himself to be quite clever and very observant.

Murtagh had been pleasantly surprised when he’d worked out a method of communication with Thorn, who had been teaching him some of their language. Now with his limited vocabulary, Regulus could communicate simple questions, and a few basic answers.

Regulus gave Arya a polite greeting and a small smile when she arrived next to him. Considering the maniacally delighted grin he’d been sporting all throughout their flight this one seemed cheap and hollow to Murtagh.

Murtagh just nodded to Arya when she turned to him.

“Shall we,” she asks, gesturing to a large building on her left. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the city, graceful architecture and tranquil atmosphere.

Murtagh felt his skin crawl. He scowled at the smug smile Arya gave him as Regulus and Thorn began to move in the direction she gestured.

He followed after them and ignored Arya as she fell into step beside him. He could feel eyes on the back of his neck as he walked.

Once they were all inside the building Murtagh felt some of the tension ease. He still kept his guard up as he watched Arya speak with another elf.

She turned back to face Murtagh, Thorn, and Regulus, “This is Maedlr, he is one our foremost scholar on foreign and lost languages,” she introduced.

“Maedlr, this is Murtagh, Thorn, and the boy they found.” Maedlr gave them a polite nod.

He was dark skinned, and as severe looking any all the other elves Murtagh had seen. A part of him wondered if they all looked constipated.

“Greetings.” Maedlr looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. The feeling was mutual and Murtagh was once again hit with the urge to grab Regulus and fly away with Thorn.

“Greetings.” Regulus carefully repeated.

Maedlr raised his eyebrows and turned to Arya, he said something to her in elvish and from his tone, Murtagh assumed it wasn’t particularly nice.

Arya responded, and the two began a quite argument.

Regulus shuffled closer to Murtagh, “no good?” he asked. Murtagh shrugged and Regulus frowned as he looked back at Arya and Maedlr.

“Why?” he asked. Murtagh blinked,

“Ehh…” he waved a hand, “elves are strange.” Regulus was silent for a moment, his face sunk into deep contemplation.

“Wh-” whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming open.

“Your Majesty!” a woman’s voice cried out. Murtagh turned around to see a dwarf girl standing in the doorway. Her face was covered in freckles and frizzy hair escaped from their braids. She was panting as she tried to catch her breath.

“Sionra,” Arya greeted, “is everything alright?”

That was odd. What was a dwarf doing in the elven capital? Especially one who could speak to the queen in such a familiar manner.

“No!” Sionra yelled. She turned to look at Murtagh with a poisonous stare. “What is he doing here?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

Arya blinked, “he is my guest,” her answer seemed to only upset Sionra further.

“He’s a murderer!” she shrieked, “Why would you let a monster like him come here?”

Murtagh was surprised when Regulus’ hand touched his. He hadn’t even realized he was clenching them into fists.

“Keep calm Murtagh,” Thorn murmured as he tried to send soothing feelings through their bond, “we cannot afford to be starting fights.”

And that made sense, because Murtagh was already on shaky ground, he knew any aggressive actions could be considered reason to attack him and Thorn. There was also Regulus’ safety to consider.

Besides, the dwarf had a point, no matter how Murtagh wanted to deny it.

“Murtagh is not a monster,” Arya argued, and well that was a surprise, “he was pardoned by High Queen Nasuada. He is here under my invitation, I would not have asked him here if I thought he was.”

“But-” Sionra started, but she was cut off by Arya, “do you not trust my judgment?”

Sionra deflated, “of course I do your majesty” she murmured.

Arya turned to face them. “You’ll have to forgive her,” she said, “I have tried to explain to her and Tazuz, the other dragon rider here, about your situation during the war, clearly that lesson has not sunk in” she sent a judging look at Sionra who seemed fully chastised at that point.

“She’s a dragon rider?” Murtagh asked incredulously, he had no idea dwarves could be dragon riders.

“I am!” Sionra shouted as she jerked her gaze up to glare at Murtagh, “I bet you think dwarves oughtn't be, but we are because Eragon ShadeSlayer saw fit and-”

“I didn’t say that!” Murtagh interrupted, “I just thought it wasn’t possible!” His fists clenched at the mention of his brother.

“Eragon changed the nature of the bond to include the dwarves as well as the urgals,” Arya interjected.

“The urgals?” Murtagh was sure Eragon must’ve finally lost his mind. “What was he thinking?”

“You shut up!” Sionra shrieked, “Tazuz is a fantastic rider! Why don’t you and your beast go back to whatever cave you’ve been skulking in for the past century and rot!”

“What did you say about Thorn?” Murtagh asked, his pulse was rushing and the sound of his heartbeat was audible in his ear.

“Murtagh no,” Thorn tried to calm him down. But he was too angry, how dare she call Thorn a beast.

“You take that back,” he told her as he took a menacing step in her direction. She backed up a step, and Murtagh felt a sense of sick satisfaction cut through the blind rage he was in, he knew he had intimidated her. Good, she didn’t know who she was dealing with.

But then she straightened up, “He’s a monster just like you!” she yelled. Her hands clenched into fists and she shook, with rage or fear, it did matter to Murtagh.

“Sionra,” Arya chided, “enough.” She turned to Murtagh, “You too.”

“She speaks true your majesty,” Maedlr spoke up. Murtagh had forgotten about his presence until this point.

“Maedlr,” Arya said in exasperation, “that is not… no.” She seemed to struggle to find the right words.

“Sionra leave us,” she commanded the dwarf girl, “you too” she told Maedlr. He bowed, and left without another word.

But Sionra protested, “Your majesty-” Arya raised a hand. “Go Sionra, I shall speak with you later.”

Her tone brokered no argument. Sionra flushed red and bowed stiffly, and then she raced out of the room back the way she came.

Arya drew in a breath after she’d gone. “I am sorry for that,” she told Murtagh, “I thought there wouldn’t be this much resistance to your presence.”

“Really?” Murtagh drawled, “you weren’t expecting resistance to the most hated pair in the world?” he gestured to himself and Thorn, “because that dwarf’s reaction was pretty much exactly what you’re going to get from her entire nation.”

“They should not harbor such anger towards you,” Arya argued, “You were forced by Galbatorix to commit all those atrocities.”

“Ah, but the difference between us and him is he’s dead. We’re still around, a threat that could make itself known at any moment.”

Murtagh let out a humorless laugh, “frankly I’m amazed the king of the dwarves hasn’t showed up yet, demanding our heads.”

He felt hysteria rising in his mind, “why are you even helping us? Having us here is obviously going to create more problems for you? What do you gain from this?” he cuts her off when she tries to answer, “and don’t tell me that bullshit answer about squabbling nobles, we’ve probably already created even more of a mess just form out presence alone.”

She frowned and studied his face for a moment, “Eragon asked me to look out for you.”

Murtagh turned to Thorn, “Eragon asked her too.” He repeated to Thorn, “isn’t that nice?” Sarcasm bled into his tone as he continued, “why doesn’t he just talk to the other monarchs then, I’m sure he’s so wonderful that they’ll forget they want our heads on a spike and then we’ll all live happily ever after forever and ever-”

“Enough.” Arya was scowling, Murtagh turned to stare blankly at her. He didn’t have a response and he was worried if he opened his mouth he’d say something that would truly upset her.

It made his blood boil, that she was only trying to help them because of Eragon’s good opinion.

Because it always came back to perfect wonderful Eragon didn’t it. The moron had blundered into being a dragon rider and somehow not died an ugly death. Everything he did he came out of it unscathed.

When Murtagh had been bound to serve Galbatorix he had lamented that if only he’d have been the one their mother left on the farm with her brother, then his fate would have been different.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered and Murtagh finally gave into the part of him that had been telling him to leave from the moment he set foot in this godforsaken city.

He spun around grabbed Regulus’ arm.

“We’re leaving Thorn.”

“No.”

Murtagh stopped short.

“What?” He whirled around to stare into Thorn’s solemn gaze.

“Running away will not change how the world sees us. We must prove ourselves.”

“Why should we care about what the rest of those fuckers think?” Murtagh growled.

“Because it’s lonely in the forest, and boring.” Thorn told him. “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

And Murtagh… he didn’t have a good response for that. Why didn’t Thorn understand that it would never be enough? That no matter how hard they would try to prove themselves, they would always be distrusted and shunned?

He stared at Thorn, feeling utterly betrayed, until he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder.

“Murtagh?”

He turned and found himself gazing into Regulus’ concerned grey eyes.

Suddenly everything was too much, the walls were closing in and he couldn’t breath, Murtagh released his grip on Regulus’ arm and ripped away from his touch.

He shoved out of the room and raced down the hall, he didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to get away, from Arya, from Regulus, from Thorn.

Murtagh heard Regulus’ call after him, but he didn’t stop, just kept running.

The world felt far away and to close all at once. Murtagh couldn’t focus. He turned down pathways without any thought, he was aware of people staring at him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You!” an angry voice cried out. Murtagh paused and turned to find Sionra charging towards him, a tall urgal on her heels.

He was tall and broad like most of his kind, ugly too, and he had large horns like a ram’s protruding from his head.

Murtagh stiffened as Sionra reached him.

“What do you think you’re doing here, murderer?” He hated the sound of her voice. It was shrill and grated on his ears.

“Taking a walk you annoying midget,” he sneered. Thorn would say not to start fights, but Thorn wanted to stay and make nice with these fuckers, who would never see them as anything other than monsters.

But Murtagh knew that they would never change their minds, before he’d been Galbatorix’s favorite henchman, he’d been Morzan’s spawn, as wicked as his father. He’d never been able to shake that legacy, not until he’d made an even worse one for himself.

“You… you… “Sionra spluttered, her face red and eyes bulging. She clenched her fists,

“You might have the queen fooled, but I won’t let you get away with your evil schemes!” she raged.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do? Bite my ankles?” Murtagh snarled.

Sionra let loose another ear splitting shriek, she lunged forward.

To both their surprise her charge was stopped by the urgal grabbing her collar.

“My friend, perhaps you should not do this,” he spoke, his voice was deep and gravely.

“What the hell Tazuz!” Sionra yelled twisting around to glare up at him.

“You should listen to your friend pipsqueak.” Murtagh taunted, “I’d hate to have to go to the trouble of scraping you off the bottom of my shoe.”

Sionra hissed and struggled to get out of Tazuz’s grip.

“I only meant that you should settle this dispute by duel.” Tazuz explained calmly.

Sionra stilled, then she glared at Murtagh “I challenge you to a duel you ugly bastard!” she screamed at him.

“Murtagh!” he turned and saw Arya racing toward him, Regulus trying to keep up behind her.

He turned back to Sionra, “I accept.” He declared.

“Accept what?” Arya asked as she came to a stop next to Murtagh, Regulus arrived a few seconds later, out of breath and panting.

“Sionra is going to have a duel with Rider Murtagh to settle their dispute.” Tazuz informed her. He seemed very pleased with himself and it set Murtagh’s teeth on edge. He had never understood why the rebellion had made an alliance with these creatures.

“I see.” Arya didn’t sound happy in the least. “You will have this duel at sunset.” Her tone brokered no argument.

“Of course your majesty.” Tazuz bowed forcing Sionra to do the same, and then he escorted her away. She gave Murtagh a nasty glare over her shoulder.

“I hope you're pleased with yourself.” Arya said as she glared at Murtagh.

He grinned at her, “why yes I am.”

“And how do you plan to duel when you no longer have a sword?” she asked as she folded her arms.

“Oh.” Murtagh no longer had a sword because he’d thrown his father’s away when he’d been freed from Galbatorix’s control. It was in the depths of Du Weldenvarden somewhere.

“Oh indeed” she sneered. He frowned at her, and after a moment she threw her hands up, “I’ll find you a sword.” She turned and stalked away.

Regulus turned and watched her walk away before he turned to look at Murtagh.

“You good?” he asked.

Murtagh gave a hysterical laugh, “no.”

Regulus scrunched up his nose, it was how Murtagh knew he was trying to figure out how to say what he wanted.

“You, ah… help?”

Murtagh snorted, “Do I need help?”

Regulus blinked and frowned his eyes rolling up as he thought, “yes?” he asked.

Murtagh shook his head.

“Murtagh, follow me” Arya called angrily over her shoulder, “I don’t want you getting into anymore fights.”

Murtagh sighed, and he walked after her, Regulus jogging after him.

***

Hours later Murtagh was fastening the straps of his armor while Regulus watched silently, across the field Sionra was doing the same. Tazuz was standing beside her, their dragons behind them, pale orange and dark pink, smaller than Thorn but large nonetheless.

Speaking of Thorn, he’d refused to speak to Murtagh since he’d found out about the duel. Now Murtagh could feel his silent judgment barring down on him, but he ignored it, opting instead to give a test swing to the sword Arya had procured for him.

It had a shorter blade than Zar’roc, Murtagh’s father’s sword. That was going to be an inconvenience, still Murtagh was confident he could defeat Sionra.

“You good?” Regulus asked, Murtagh turned and gave him a tight smile. “Yes.” Regulus looked like he didn’t believe Murtagh in the least.

“Are both combatants ready?” Arya asked. Murtagh nodded, and Sionra did the same.

“Then come and bow to your opponent.” Murtagh stepped into the ring drawn in the grass. A small crowd of elves was growing at the edges of the field.

He placed his helmet onto his head. He and Sionra bowed to one another.

“Here are the rules of the duel;” Arya began, “your blades have been dulled, you will fight until one of the combatants yields or is unable to continue, you are not allowed to deal fatal blows. Do you understand?” She asked giving each of them a hard stare.

When they both nodded she took a deep breath and stepped out of the circle.

“Ready? Fight!” she called.

Murtagh pulled down the visor of his helmet and he and Sionra began to circle one another.

She had a good stance, and Murtagh decided he’d try not to crush her too badly.

That plan lasted up until Sionra charged at him. And Murtagh realized several things very quickly.

Sionra was a very well trained fighter, she was quite fast, and Murtagh was horribly out of practice.

She swung at him and he parried, only for her to smack her foot into his kneel, he wasn’t expecting it and had to move back to stay balanced.

She took the opportunity to swing at him again. She was strong, and her sword gave her a longer range.

Murtagh quickly realized that he’d need to seriously fight her, because if he didn’t he’d lose. The idea gave him and ugly feeling.

They broke apart and started to circle one another again. This time Murtagh took the initiative and swung at her.

She dodged and when he was off balance swung her sword at his exposed back.

Her strike hit his armor with a loud clang, and it stung, but what stung more was the cheer that rose from the watching crowd.

Murtagh jolted forward and spun to face her again. This time she jabbed forward with her sword. He hadn’t been expecting it and spun to avoid it.

Which gave her an opportunity to kick at his side again.

They continued in this manner, trading blows and Murtagh slowly becoming more and more tired.

Murtagh realized he would need to break her composure, otherwise she’d run him down. Clearly her stamina would out last his.

In the forest there’d been no enemies to fight and Murtagh had thrown away his sword, deciding he didn’t want to carry anything associated with his bastard father.

He’d grown complacent and now he was regretting that more and more with every blow Sionra struck.

“That all you got midget? I’m not even breaking sweat. “ He called as they circled one another once again.

Sionra didn’t say anything just charged into another strike.

“What do you even get out of this? Is your king going to give you heaps of glory for defeating me?” he taunted. “Come on? What’s this all worth to you?”

He swung at her and they ended up looking blades.

“Just the peace of mind that I’m better than you.” Sionra replied, breaking the blade lock and taking another stab at Murtagh, “and from the looks of things I am.”

“We’ll that’s just your delusions speaking.” Murtagh taunted. He paired another of her blows, his arms shaking at the strain.

Because of Sionra’s height she struck lower than Murtagh was used to. It made deflecting blows awkward.

“My delusions? You seem to think people like you.” She said hotly.

“Oh I know they don’t like me, and the feeling is mutual.” He told her as he swung at her.

“I don’t know why your Eragon and Arya bother with you! You’re clearly a lost cause, you take no responsibility for your crimes, and you hide behind the kindness of others.” She snarled as she parried his strike.

“Your pathetic,” she continued, “you will never be accepted by anyone, I’m sure even your dragon will tire of you and your poison one day.” She struck back at him.

“If he even chose you.”

The words strike something raw and painful within Murtagh.

Because it was entirely possible Galbatorix had forced the bond between him and Thorn.

The world tilted and the ground fell away from beneath him. Literally. He was on the ground gazing up at Sionra.

She raised her sword and it was the last thing Murtagh saw before the world went black, Thorn’s roar echoing in his ears, and his chest aching with heartbreak.

***

Murtagh was standing in the throne room of Ilirea’s castle, Regulus was standing a few feet away from him with his arms wrapped around himself. There was a man sitting on the throne, crown on his head. He was dark skinned and his hair was graying at his temples. He pointed his scepter at Regulus.

“We have made our decision, take him away.” He commanded, and two guards, dressed in court finery, took hold of Regulus’ arms. He shot an alarmed look over his shoulder at Murtagh.

Beside the man on the throne, another man smirked, his skin was lighter, and he had a self-satisfied air about him.

Murtagh felt panic race through him as Regulus was dragged away.

But he could not move.

***

Murtagh woke to find Regulus hovering over him. Face scrunched up in worry. The irony of their position was not lost on him. When Regulus had first met Murtagh he had been the one in the bed with Murtagh hovering over him.

“You are good?” Regulus asked. It warmed Murtagh’s broken black heart that even though Regulus clearly had seen his darker side, he still seemed to care.

“He is not the only one who cares.” Thorn’s voice echoed in Murtagh mind.

He was hovering above Murtagh’s bed and Murtagh felt guilt radiate through him.

“I am sorry.” Thorn told him.

“For what?” Murtagh asked him through their bond. “If I remember correctly I was the one acting like an out of control maniac.”

“No.” Thorn disagreed, “you were upset, and I ignored that in favor of my own selfish desires.”

“It’s not selfish to want company Thorny.” Murtagh argued.

“But you are company,” Thorn said.

“Ah, but it’s okay to get sick of me sometimes, I get sick of me sometimes.” Murtagh joked.

“No,” Thorn argued, “you are good, I should have never let anyone get away with telling you otherwise.”

“That’s sweet Thorny,” Murtagh cooed. He felt Thorn’s affection flow through their bond.

“I love you too buddy,” he told Thorn.

Then he turned to Regulus. He was watching them with a curious look on his face, and he brightened slightly when Murtagh grinned at him.

“Thanks for watching out for me.” Murtagh felt Thorn translate; it really was cute how they worked to communicate more complicated thoughts and ideas.

“We can go when you are feeling ready.” Thorn informed Murtagh.

“No no, I’m okay to stay,” he told Thorn, “I know you wanted to make friend with the other dragons.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Thorn told him.

“What do you mean?” Murtagh asked, “You are wonderful and they should be grateful they get the chance to be your friend.”

“As flattering as that is,” Thorn thought, “it’s not going to happen because I bit Vornongr, Sionra’s dragon,” an image of the pale orange dragon pops into Murtagh’s mind, “and threatened to do the same to Hurana, Tazuz’s dragon.” An image of the dark pink dragon appears. “Arya said it would be best for us to return to the depths of the forest while she soothes things here and lets everything settle.”

“I’m surprised she’s not going to lock us up over this.” Murtagh commented.

“Yes well I suppose having Eragon’s good opinion on our side counts for more than we gave it credit for.” Thorn is slightly amused.

“Ugh,” Murtagh groans, “the nosy bastards probably going to call us about this,”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Thorn hummed. “Just ignore him.”

“What’s this?” Murtagh gasped dramatically, “You’re telling me not to be social? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Thorn snorts, “I changed my mind when trying to get along got you smacked in the head and unconscious for a day.”

“What?” Murtagh laughed. “I’ve been out for a day? We weren’t supposed to deal fatal blows, I thought Sionra would’ve been happy to follow Arya’s directions.”

“Well her hatred of you clearly out weighted her respect for Arya. But after Fírnen separated Vornongr and I, and Regulus ran over to check you were still alive, Arya chewed her out for it.”

Murtagh shot a grin at Regulus, who had been sitting quietly, clearly trying to be unobtrusive,

“Oh yeah? How kind of him.” Regulus gave Murtagh a confused smile in return,

“Yes,” Thorn agreed, “it’s a good man you’ve stumbled upon.”

“We’re taking him with us when we go back to the forest,” Murtagh told Thorn, “I’m not leaving him at the mercy of Arya and the rest of the vultures.” He felt Thorn hum in agreement.

“That we are.”

“So,” Murtagh grinned at Thorn the tension he’d been feeling ever since they’d set out for Oslin, finally easing all the way, “when do we leave?”


	2. New Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh gets into another fight, and Regulus' dragon makes her first appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovely people who are reading my work! Thank you for taking the time to do so :)

Regulus watched as Murtagh finished attaching a bag to Thorn’s saddle. He clambered down and flashed a grin at Regulus as he stretched out a hand for another one.

Regulus handed another bag to him. He watched as Murtagh easily swung himself up to attach it. He didn’t seem like someone who had just recovered from a serious head injury.

But Regulus supposed that was due to the magic of this world.

He’d been scared when Murtagh had lost a duel. It had shown Murtagh clearly wasn’t as powerful as Regulus had thought him to be. For all the confidence he had moved with, he had been defeated. It made Regulus nervous because Murtagh and Thorn were the only people he was sure would watch his back in this strange world.

A cry startled Regulus and Murtagh frowned at something behind him. He turned to see an elf running towards him. She appeared to be chasing a small silver creature.

Upon closer inspection, Regulus realized it was a dragon. He’d never seen one so small, it was only the size of a cat, and Regulus wondered why it was coming towards him.

Murtagh dropped down behind Regulus, and normally that was enough to distract Regulus from everything else, but a moment later the dragon launched itself into the air directly at Regulus’ face.

Unthinkingly Regulus caught it and nearly dropped it when a sharp pain raced through his palm.

He felt something brush against his consciousness. It felt like Thorn’s mind, but different, indignance washed over him, he realized that the feelings were coming from the little dragon in his arms.

“... no!” Murtagh’s voice jolted him back to the present, he had moved to stand in front of Regulus and was arguing with the elf.

This was bad, the last time Murtagh had gotten into a fight he’d been injured. Regulus turned to Thorn, desperate for an explanation or a way to de-escalate the situation.

But Thorn had joined in whatever conflict was happening, he was growling and smoke was starting to rise from his nostrils.

Regulus was at a loss, he didn’t want to make the problem worse, but he needed to do something. 

He took a step around Murtagh and held out the baby dragon to the elf. That was probably what she was mad about.

The dragon obviously took offence to that because she bit down on his arm.

The elf and Murtagh and Thorn all looked startled when she did. But Regulus wasn’t really paying attention, because he was to busy trying to disengage her from his arm.

“What are you doing?!” he screeched at her. He was met by a wave of anger and betrayal and possessiveness.

She was trying to tell him something but he didn’t know what she wanted from him.

Murtagh’s hand on his shoulder startled him. He gave the man a desperate look, his mind searching for the right words.

Murtagh held his palm up to Regulus’ face. It had a silvery oval mark on it. The first time Regulus had seen it he had assumed it was a scar of some sort. But now examining it closer, he realized it really wasn’t.

Murtagh took one of Regulus’ hands, the one the stinging pain had gone through. Regulus was startled to see it had a matching march.

What did the mark mean? It definitely had something to do with the baby dragon in his arms, because it hadn’t been there before that.

The baby dragon’s satisfaction purred into his mind. That was it then, whatever bond Murtagh and Thorn had, Regulus had with this dragon.

Did she speak too? He wondered. When he clumsily reached out for her mind he felt no words, just instinct and feeling.

Her instincts told her to stay with him, that he was hers and she was his and there was love. It startled Regulus to find it; he didn’t recognize the feeling at first. It was something foreign but it made sense somehow.

He glanced up at Murtagh again. He had a serious look on his face, but when he noticed Regulus’ stare, he gave him a tense smile.

A call rang out across the courtyard as several other elves and their Queen, Arya entered.

***

Murtagh jolted when Arya and several other elves came racing into the courtyard.

“This is going to complicate things,” Thorn murmured angrily. He was still steaming from the caretaker's comments. She’d seemed completely convinced they were up to something foul.

Murtagh understood his anger, and the underlying unease as well. They were hardly equipped to handle another fight, as loathe as he was to admit it. He stepped in front of Regulus who had been distracted by the baby dragon in his arms. The poor boy seemed baffled by the entire situation.

“He’s bonded with the dragon?” Arya asked as she came to a halt in front of them.

“He has,” Murtagh, answered her, “it doesn’t change anything though.”

“What do you mean it changes nothing?” one of the elves behind Arya asked indignantly.

“Murtagh,” Arya had a warning in her tone, but he ignored her. “Exactly what I said, we’re still leaving.”

“You cannot take him with you,” the elf, a man with pale skin and long braided hair, argued.

He turned to Arya and said something in rapid elvish. Her answer was something sharp, and he backed down, clearly chastised.

“Murtagh, Regulus needs to stay here, learn to be a dragon rider, his dragon, she’s too young to take into the forest,” Arya tried to reason.

Murtagh just shook his head and crossed his arms, “I can teach him, and Thorn and I are more than enough to watch out for the dragon.”

Several alarmed whispers shot through the same crowd. Arya face clouded, “I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?” Murtagh knew why he just wanted to see if she would actually say it to his face.

The whispers grew even more alarmed and Murtagh felt Thorn shift beside him.

“He needs to stay here with the other dragon riders Murtagh.” Arya gave him a pointed look. Her face betrayed nothing.

“Don’t bullshit me Arya-” Murtagh began, but was cut off when,

“Your Majesty!” Sionra’s shriek echoed through the courtyard.

Arya closed her eyes for a moment, her face falling.

Had Murtagh been feeling charitable, he would have tried to de-escalate the situation, but his pride was still smarting from their duel, and he was still sore about Sionra’s taunts.

Beside him, Thorn growled, as Vornongr followed her into the courtyard.

“He’s bonded to the dragon?” Sionra continued. She looked thoroughly disgusted at the idea.

Murtagh clenched his jaw. He took another step in front of Regulus to better shield him from the angry dwarf woman.

He didn’t want her getting any ideas.

“He is indeed,” Arya told her, “and you will have to learn to get along.”

“Or not,” Murtagh interjected, “we’re leaving.”

Sionra’s head whipped around, her eyes bulged.

“That’s his scheme," your majesty! He’s going to create his own army of evil dragon riders and try to destroy us all!”

Ah, Sionra could always be counted on to say what everyone else was thinking, but too cowardly to actually say. It didn’t make Murtagh like her any better though.

“That is a baseless accusation,” Arya chastised. And once again Murtagh wondered about the strength of her feelings for Eragon, that she would be so willing to defend him.

“But-” Sionra shrieked, and Murtagh had had enough.

“As much as you’d like for me to be some story villain, I don’t actually give a fuck about any of the kingdoms” he snarled at her.

She puffed up like an angry cat, “well I’m sure you’d like us all to believe that” she hissed.

Murtagh raised his hands in mock surrender, “well then suit yourself in your delusions, your opinion doesn’t change the fact that we’re leaving.”

She scowled even harder.

“No, you won’t,” Arya fixed Murtagh with a commanding look. Then she turned to face Sionra and the gathered crowd.

“Leave us.” She commanded. Protests rose from the crowd, the loudest from Sionra, but under Arya’s glare, they all left eventually.

Once the last person had filed out, Arya sighed and her shoulders lowered.  
“Now do you see why I say he should stay here?” she asked jerking her head towards Regulus.

And Murtagh did, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction, “because you're afraid I’m going to raise an army and kill you all?” he asked sarcastically.

“I’m not,” Arya said forcefully. “But I do know you are smarter than you act. This isn’t about what you are going to do, I know you mean us all no harm, but there are people out there who don’t. And they will come for you. And if we learned anything from your little stunt yesterday, it’s that you aren’t going to win. And what do you think will happen to Regulus when you go fall?”

“... “ He didn’t have an answer. Everything she had said was true.

“Think about it,” Arya said softly, “you can stay here until then. I will make sure no one bothers you.”

He nodded and she smiled over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and strode out of the courtyard.

Murtagh watched her leave, a sinking feeling in his gut. He heaved a sigh and turned,

To find the baby dragon balancing on top of Thorn’s head, Regulus reaching out to try and catch it.

“Having fun?” Murtagh asked Thorn through their bond.

“She’s so liiiittle…” Thorn cooed. And Murtagh could feel his excitement. “Haaatchling, hatchling, tiny hatchling…” he continued to coo at her.

The little dragon squeaked in excitement. She flapped her wings and overbalanced.

Thorn gave a rumble of alarm and Regulus yelled… something in his native tongue. He caught her in his arms and continued speaking to her in a scolding tone.

This was when Murtagh noticed Regulus was still bleeding from the bite mark on his arm.

“She bit you?” Murtagh asked as he lifted Regulus’ arm up for closer inspection.

“What?” Regulus blinked uncomprehendingly up at Murtagh. He pointed to the bite marks. still sluggishly bleeding, and Regulus gave a soft “oh” of understanding.

“Yes, um…” he looks up at Thorn, “for… uhh… mad… at… ugh… me” he explains.

Murtagh nods and murmurs a healing spell over the wound. Regulus makes a soft noise of surprise as the skin and muscle knit back together.

It doesn’t take long but when the bite is healed Murtagh doesn’t let go.

He’s too busy staring at Regulus’ tattoo. He’d know the boy had one, but this is the first time he’s seen it up close.

It’s was an ugly thing, a skull with a snake running through and around it, Murtagh felt unease creep up on him.

It reminded him of a slave brand.

Back when Galbatorix was still on the throne, he’d allowed slavery; Murtagh had seen similar marks burnt into slave’s flesh. It was done so slaves could be identified and caught if they made an escape attempt.

Regulus shifted and gave his arm a small tug, Murtagh let go. He met Regulus’ guarded stare but didn’t say anything. Everyone had skeletons they wanted to forget.

The baby dragon broke the silence between them by bumping her head into Regulus’ jaw. He scrunched up his nose, “she… ah… hungry” he explained.

“Then we should find food,” Thorn hummed. “Come we will go hunting.” Murtagh glanced up at his dragon.

“Didn’t Arya tell us to stay put?” he asked half seriously. Thorn shook himself, “we need to feed her, do you want to go and ask someone where they keep their food?”

Murtagh snorted, “hell no, let’s go.”

“That’s what I thought,” Thorn hummed smugly.

Murtagh smirked, he took Regulus’ arm, “we’re going to find food,” he told him as he led him to Thorn’s side.

Regulus nodded, he glanced up at Thorn’s back for a moment before he glanced down at the baby dragon, and the up at Thorn again.

Murtagh realized he wouldn’t be able to get up while still holding the baby dragon. He leaned down and wrapped an arm around Regulus’ thighs.

Regulus gave an alarmed shout when he hefted him up; the baby dragon gave a squawk of her own. Regulus stared down at Murtagh, eyes wide and face slightly red. Then he blinked and lifted the baby dragon so she could climb onto Thorn’s back.

Once she was up there, he clambered up himself. Murtagh climbed up after. Settling behind him so he could have an easier time of making sure neither fell off.

“You worry too much,” Thorn teased, but Murtagh ignored him. Thorn stretched his wings and launched himself into the air.

***

The dragon, she didn’t have a name yet and didn’t like any of the ones Regulus had suggested, was delighted by the flight. She stretched her wings and crowed and Regulus could feel her excitement.

He could also feel the warmth of Murtagh at his back, and the arm he had wrapped around his waist… it was very distracting, his face was still red from when the man had picked him up like a sack of flour and lifted him up. He knew Murtagh was fairly strong, but he hadn’t thought he was that strong.

The baby dragon, and she really did need a name, broke through his thoughts to remind him how hungry she was.

He tried to explain that they were going to find food, but she didn’t seem to understand, only pushing more and more at his conscience with the feeling of hunger.

So he was grateful when Thorn dipped down below the treetops once again, heading for a clearing. The baby dragon flung out her wings and he could feel her excitement.

His own thoughts echoed the sentiment. He’d always loved flying; something about being so high above it all was soothing. The baby dragon sent him the idea of flying under her own power, and he felt excitement rise in him at the thought.

Thorn landed with a jolt, and Regulus had to brace an arm out in front of himself to keep from squishing her.

He felt Murtagh dismount behind him. When he moved to do so himself, the other man caught him. Regulus tried to ignore the rush he felt, tried to tell himself the feelings he had were useless and stupid. But the baby dragon caught onto his conflicting emotions and sent a rush of curiosity to him. He tried to express to her he didn’t want to talk about it, but she was persistent.

She jumped down and launched herself at Regulus’ outstretched arms. He gave a shout of alarm, but he caught her, he was silently grateful for the years he had played seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

She was distracted by his memories of flying and chasing the snitch and so Regulus let her root around in his memories.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when Thorn lifted off into the air again.

Leaving him, the baby dragon, and Murtagh.

Murtagh said something, Regulus heard the word food, and so he assumed Thorn had gone hunting.

Murtagh began to move around the clearing they were in, gathering up fallen branches. Regulus placed the baby dragon down carefully and began to help.

In the back of his mind, he could feel her curiosity as she explored her surroundings. It was fascinating.

Once they had gathered enough sticks, Murtagh made a ring of stones and set the wood within, piling them against one another.

When he had finished that he said something and the wood burst into flames. Regulus was fascinated.

He tried to string together enough word to ask how Murtagh was his magic. He got a grin in response and a word, he assumed it was magic. He grimaced at Murtagh for his lacklustre explanation. The other man grinned back at him.

The baby dragon gave a shriek of delight as she chased burning embers, her movements clumsy and shaky.

A shadow fell over them and Regulus looked up to see Thorn descend from the sky. He felt a quite awe sweep through him and wondered if the tiny silver dragon beside him would ever be that large.

Her feelings echoed his, her affection for Thorn bleeding through their bond, and her excitement at flying.

Thorn dropped a deer onto the ground and Regulus flinched in alarm. He’d never seen a corpse up close before.

Though there had been some when the death eaters went on raids and… he pushed the dark thought away, it didn’t matter anymore he had no way to get home and nothing waiting for him there.

Not to mention there was the life debt he owed Murtagh, when he’d been speaking to Thorn what seemed like ages ago, though had in fact been less than a day ago, he’d learned Murtagh had a premonition about his death and that when the man had been given the chance he’d saved him.

It bothered him if he thought about it too much, the fact that he would have died, had Murtagh not intervened.

He remembered those terrible moments before the world had faded to black, remembered his lungs burning and the terrible hands that dragged him down down down, and knowing no would notice or care and…

The baby dragon bit him. The pain dragged him back to reality. He stared down at her, “we need to find you a better method of communication,” he told her. She blinked up at him, not so much understanding his words, as the meaning behind them.

He felt Murtagh come up behind him and heard him make a disapproving noise. He reached down to grab Regulus’ hand and Regulus let him, he was too busy trying to control his racing heart.

He felt the sting of the bite vanish as the injury healed. It was powerful magic, he noticed idly, everyone in this world who did magic was powerful, all they needed was a word.

The baby dragon dove onto the deer corpse. Murtagh tried to shoo her away and she snapped her jaws at him. Finally, Thorn nudged her away with one massive claw. She squeaked at him and pounced at his head.

He blew a great breath that knocked her over, and Regulus could feel her delight as she tumbled back onto her feet, wings spread to make herself bigger.

Regulus watched the pair play until a hunk of charred meat was shoved under his nose. He startled and the confusion and disgust must have been evident on his face because Murtagh laughed at him.

He had a nice laugh.

Regulus mentally smacked himself for the thought. He carefully took the meat. It had a stick through it, and Regulus really didn’t want to eat off something that came off the ground.

He cast an incredulous look at Murtagh and the other man grinned at him with clear amusement written on his face.

Regulus ignored the way his own face heated up and tried to eat the meat. It was a messy affair and Regulus got the sense that he was making a fool out of himself.

Later when they had finished and were watching the fire die, and the baby dragon was gnawing on a bone, Regulus felt the nagging question he’d been ignoring finally surface.

He turned to Murtagh, “I am… uh… like you?” because if he had a bond with the dragon, like the one Murtagh and Thorn had, he needed to know how it worked.

Murtagh blinked, he shifted, turned to Thorn, and then nodded. He said something, an explanation, but Regulus couldn’t really follow. When he asked, “... yes?” which Regulus assumed meant if he understood, he shook his head.

Murtagh blinked and hummed thoughtfully, “... a bond?” he finally offered. And that didn’t explain anything to Regulus. He glanced around as he struggled with how to phrase his questions.

The sun was filtering through the trees and everything was bathed in a hazy golden light.

A shadow passed over them and when Regulus looked up he saw Arya’s green dragon descending from the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... I'm a pretty slow writer and now that school has started I'm probably going to be even slower. But none the less, I'll try to have semi-regular updates and let you all know if something is going to take particularly long. That being said. have a great day :)


	3. Crossroads

“We are in trouble” Thorn hummed and Murtagh mentally agreed, because Arya looked thoroughly pissed of as Fírnen landed.

Regulus seemed to pick up on the sudden change in mood, because he gathered his dragon up in his arms. He had a smear on his cheek from their meal earlier.

Murtagh dragged himself to his feet, an exhaustion creeping into his bones. This little excursion had been a grand idea at the time, but now seemed like a stupid stunt, considering it had probably just lost them their only ally.

Arya dismounted and stalked toward Murtagh, her expression dark with rage.

“I hope you’re proud of yourselves.” She glared at Murtagh, and then at Thorn, “You’ve single-handedly managed to convince the entire city you’re planning some sort nefarious scheme. I can only wonder what gods forsaken excuse you’ll give me.” Her voice rose as she continued, “so what was it, why didn’t you listen to me?”

Murtagh looked at her, but it was Thorn who answered, “She was hungry,” his head swinging in the baby dragon’s direction. Arya’s eyes bulged, her lips pressed into a thin line and then she hissed out “then why didn’t you ask someone to bring her something to eat?”

When Murtagh and Thorn exchanged a silent look, her expression became even more enraged.

“Perhaps it should be asked why you did not feel comfortable asking the others?” Fírnen pointed out.

Arya’s rage fell from her face and she sighed, “surely you know that I told everyone you were my guests, and therefore under my protection.”

Murtagh crossed his arms; “I’d rather be all alone, than constantly having to watch my back. Forgive me if I don’t trust that your word will be enough to protect us.”

“Besides, it had already been proven there were people who would see us dead” Thorn added.

“That fight with Sionra didn’t have to happen, if you, “ and she gave Murtagh an accusatory glare, “hadn’t chosen to accept her duel there wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“But she struck a lethal blow,” Thorn pointed out, “She shouldn’t have done so.”

“No, but he shouldn’t have been antagonizing her.” She glared at Murtagh once again.

“Hey now,” he interjected, “she started it.”

“That’s debatable,” Arya dismissed.

“Really?” Murtagh mocked, “I didn’t realize refusing to let my friend be insulted was the same as saying baseless libel.”

Arya scowled at him, “ but weren’t just doing that, you were picking a fight, and one you didn’t even end up winning at that.”

Murtagh felt shame run through him when she said that, she was right but his defeat was still a sore spot. He shoved it away and used his anger as a shield.

“So what? Next time I won’t be caught off guard.”

Arya rolled her eyes and huffed, but before she could say anything, Fírnen interrupted,

“You are forgetting the original point of this conversation. You need to return to the city before word gets out and half the kingdoms are convinced that you are building an army.”

“Can’t you just assure the rest of your allies that we mean them no harm?” Thorn asked.

“It would not be enough, not if you take Regulus and his dragon with you back into the woods,” Arya answered.

“We aren’t plotting to raise an army of evil dragon riders,” Murtagh growled.

“I know.” She said, “but as I’ve said before, there are those who don’t and will not take my word for it.”

“...” He scowled and turned to Thorn, “what do you think?” he asked through their bond.

“She makes a good point, loath as I am to admit it,” Thorn began, “but I don’t want to go back any more than you do,” he continued.

“But it’s not just ourselves we’ve got to think about,” Murtagh added, “She’s also right that we could drag Regulus and his dragon down with us.”

“I don’t want that,” Thorn stated, “Neither do I” Murtagh agreed, “So we’ll stay?” he asked.

“We will,” Thorn agreed.

“We’ll come back with you,” Murtagh told her. Arya pressed her lips together, and Murtagh felt a cold sinking feeling settle over him.

“You want us to leave them with you” he seethed. Arya opened her mouth but it was too late, red was clouding his vision and his heartbeat was once again drowning out everything else.

“You’re just like him” Murtagh growled, “you don’t actually care what the others think, you just don’t want anyone opposing you. You’d rather chain Regulus to your own beliefs while you still can then let him make up his own mind whether he wants to be bound for all eternity serving an ungrateful world that will never accept him and eventually bring about his death!”

He drew in a harsh breath, “ You think those fuckers down south give a shit about him and what he wants? They don’t! All they want is a monster they can order around and make them feel powerful, gleefully ignoring the fact he has a mind of his own! And if you thought I’d sit idly by and let you do this, you’re dead fucking wrong!” He finished with a yell.

Arya looked taken aback, then she shifted and scowled, he could see she was gritting her teeth and he knew he’d struck a nerve.

Fírnen gently nudged his mind, “I understand your concerns, but given the precarious nature of the current situation, it would be best if you returned to the forest and let us continue to train Regulus and his dragon.”

“Either Thorn and I stay with them in Ellesméra, or we all go back to the forest, there is no other option you deaf lizard!” Murtagh yelled, his pulse pounding in his ears. Fírnen blinked,

“But if you do not do this, then there will be only suffering for you” he continued.

“Is that a threat?” Murtagh snarled. Behind him, Thorn let out a low growl and Murtagh could feel him readying for a fight.

“It’s not,” Arya interjected, she seemed to have calmed herself, and her tone made Murtagh grit his teeth.

“But as I’ve tried to get into your thick skull multiple times now, it’s better for both of you if you separate.”

“Somehow I have trouble believing that,” Murtagh snarled angrily.

Arya flung her arms out in rage. “You’re going to make enemies of the entire world, how are you going to win against an entire army complete with mages and anti-dragon weapons, because yes those exist now thanks to you, and furthermore protect them,” she gestured to Regulus and his dragon, “when you couldn’t even beat one trainee!” he voice rose in pitch, “why are you hell bent on being so utterly self destructive! What do you think you’ll achieve?”

Murtagh opened his mouth a finger raised in the air, but he could think of no answer to her question, because what did he think he’d achieve, getting into fights?

“Murtagh…” Thorn sounded mournful, and when he glanced back he saw Regulus had moved back and was watching them all warily, his dragon clutched in his arms.

It was as though someone had doused him in cold water. It hurt more than he could say to have Regulus look at him as though he was an unpredictable beast.

He drew in another breath and turned to face Arya, “I can’t leave him, he’s my responsibility, you said it yourself, we have a connection, and I can’t leave him to face all the vultures alone.”

Arya looked like she was struggling, and she turned to Fírnen, they had a silent conversation.

Murtagh turned away, he walked slowly towards Regulus, the way one approached a skittish horse. Palms raised and a careful smile plastered across his face.

That seemed to calm him and Regulus came closer hesitantly. “All… ah good?” he asked nervously. Murtagh didn’t want to lie to him, but he also didn’t want to scare him, so he said, “just a small spat, nothing to worry about, an ideological disagreement.” Regulus gave him a skeptical look. It was rather intense, Murtagh felt like every little imperfection in his story was being dragged out and found lacking.

But Regulus seemed to decide not to push it because his face softened and he took another step forward.

“We… uh… go?” he asked, looking curiously up at Murtagh. He shrugged, “maybe” and Regulus tilted his head a little as if in thought.

A cough from behind caught Murtagh’s attention, he turned and found Arya with her arms crossed,

“Fírnen has suggested I ask what Regulus wishes to do, as it is his fate we’re discussing.”

Murtagh grinned; “finally you say something intelligent” Arya scowled at him. Then she turned to address Thorn, “how much of our language does he understand?” she asked.

“Not enough for what you want to ask,” Thorn answered, “but I can help you translate.”

He turned to Regulus and the two had a silent conversation. Murtagh kept his distance from the mental conversation; he wanted Regulus to make his own choice, even if that meant he’d rather go with Arya.

The thought hurt Murtagh more than it should have, it was strange, Murtagh had dreamed about Regulus for so long, seen his death over and over, had saved him in the end. If he was being honest with himself, he felt a little possessive of Regulus.

Which was a bad thought, Regulus didn’t belong to Murtagh, he should be free to make his own decisions.

“He wants to stay with us,” Thorn declared, and Murtagh felt a quiet sense of elation bubble up in him, it was nice to have someone pick him for once, well besides Thorn, and he grinned at Regulus, who smiled shyly back.

Arya let out a sigh, “I suppose you will be staying in Ellesméra after all.”

Murtagh raised an eyebrow at her, “Will we though?”

She stiffened, “don’t do this,” she begged with a pained expression on her face.

“Don’t do what?” he echoed her, giving her a steady look.

“Don’t start this argument again, I’ve already told you why it’s best for all of us if Regulus and his dragon stay in Ellesméra, you want to come? Fine, I don’t want to get into another argument.”

“I don’t want to play nice with those little assholes” Murtagh growled.

“Then you don’t have to be there when we are doing training!” Arya snipped in exasperation,  
“I’ll find you a house far away from everyone and you can spend your days being as brooding and sulky as you wish!”

Murtagh scowled, and would have responded but,

“Don’t escalate the situation,” Thorn told him. He faced Arya, “that is acceptable.” She nodded and seemed relieved.

“Good, follow me back to the city,” she turned on her heel and walked toward Fírnen.

Murtagh gave a growl of aggravation and walked over to help Regulus up onto Thorn’s back, the boy gave him a curious look but said nothing.

When they were all settled Fírnen took off into the air and Thorn followed.

***

Regulus had never felt quite so uncomfortable in his life. The short woman who had fought Murtagh was glaring at him, her large companion, (what was he even, a troll?), was behind her leaning over to peer at Regulus and their dragons behind them.

Regulus clutched his dragon to his chest and tried to look harmless. He wasn’t sure what standard policy for new dragon riders was, and he wasn’t eager to find out.

They were in a large field, far from the city, presumably to protect random passersby from fiery blasts and Regulus… he was almost certain the short woman was going to murder him.

When the queen had summoned him he’d been nervous, but Thorn had insisted that it was fine he was going to learn to be a dragon rider. Murtagh had waved him off, so he went with the elf to the field. The queen had already been there when he’d arrived, the other dragon riders with her, her presence seemed to keep them from trying to attack him, so he’d assumed everything would be fine.

But the queen left a few minutes ago when another elf had shown up, whispering something in an urgent manner.

Then the short woman had wasted no time in marching over, and now here they were.

The baby dragon shifted and squirmed in his arms, but he didn’t want to put her down, one wrong move and she’d be squashed underfoot of the larger dragons, who were so very spiky, and this had been such a bad decision.

The short woman said something, and it took Regulus a moment to realize she was speaking to him.

He had no idea how to respond to her, partially because she had a thick accent he didn’t really understand, and partially because he was scared one wrong look would cause her to attack.  
She repeated what she said, this time with more force. Her face was scrunched up and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

She said something else, and then her large companion cut in, startling Regulus, he (?) had a voice like a thunderclap and it was frankly terrifying.

She whipped around to face him and said another string on unintelligible words. Her companion responded and they seemed to have an argument.

After a while, the troll (?) turned to say something to Regulus, who had absolutely no clue what was going on.

His silence must have proved the troll’s point because the short woman threw up her hands in exasperation.

She said something to one of the dragons, the pale orange one, and it gave a huff. Then she went back to inspecting Regulus, even going so far as to circle him.

The troll said something to her as Regulus turned to keep her in his sight; he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his back vulnerable to such a violent person.

The queen’s voice caught her attention and she turned to face her. Relief flooded Regulus as he peered at her as she spoke with the short woman and the troll.

Eventually, she turned to address him, and he half thought he understood what she was saying, something about dragons.

Regulus wanted to do what he always did when Murtagh said something unintelligible, nod and pretend he understood, then ask Thorn to translate.

But Thorn wasn’t here, and Regulus figured that would be for the best, considering the strange animosity between Murtagh and the short woman.

“Hey!” the short woman yelled at him, he turned to face her, she puffed out her cheeks at him. Then she smacked a hand to her chest, “Sionra,” she introduced herself, then she pointed to the pale orange dragon behind her, “Vornongr”, to the troll, “Tazuz,” and to the dark pink dragon, “Hurana.”

The troll bellowed something; Regulus took it as a greeting. He tapped a finger to his own chest, “Regulus,” he introduced himself. The short woman, Sionra, she looked expectantly at the baby dragon, who blinked in Regulus arms and startled to squirm again.

The queen, Arya, addressed Sionra and she frowned, after a few more words she sighed and, she and Tazuz mounted their dragons and they flew into the air following Fírnen.  
Leaving Regulus clutching his squirming dragon, alone, with the Queen.

She offered him a thin smile, and he gave her a fake one in return. The baby dragon wiggled and Regulus could feel her impatience and her desire to explore.

He carefully set her down, and he could feel the Queen’s watchful eyes on the back of his neck.

He straightened up and eyed her carefully; she sat on the grass and gestured for him to do the same. He settled carefully across from her.

She pointed to the grass, and said a word, she looked at him expectantly, and so he repeated what she said. Then she pointed to the treetops and the cycle began a new.

It went on like that for some time, and eventually, she ran out of things to point to and so began to show him drawings of things she had brought with her. It was rather mundane and yet Regulus struggled to memorize all the new words he was learning.

But then she brought out a map; Regulus leaned forward to examine it. She pointed to a dot that was in the forest; “Ellesméra.” and Regulus figured that must be where they were.

She pointed to another dot on the map, “Illrea.” It had a fancier marker on it the way Ellesméra did. The land surrounding it was vast and there was a winding border between it and the forest. Regulus guessed that it must have some significance, maybe even another country.

And so they proceeded, Regulus watching as the queen pointed out different landmarks and cities.

Later Fírnen and the others returned, and the other dragon riders joined in with the lesson, Sionra interrupting to shout words at him that he had no bases for understanding, they being meaningless to him without image or explanation.

But he did learn that the troll was called an Urgal in this language and that Sionra wasn’t human either. Which was… something, he wondered if anyone was like him in this world, or if he was the only human, but then he thought about Murtagh, who seemed human, so maybe he wasn’t alone.

Sionra’s voice cut of abruptly and Regulus looked to see her glaring at an approaching figure, Murtagh was walking leisurely towards them, and Regulus felt the tension he didn’t know existed, ease in his chest.

Maybe secretly he’d been worried Murtagh would leave without him and abandon him to the whims of these strange creatures.

He clambered to his feet, gave the queen a polite goodbye and when she nodded, went to greet Murtagh.

Or he would have if he hadn’t felt a hand grab his wrist.

He turned and found Sionra with a look of utter distress on her face, she said something pleadingly and the queen chided her, but Regulus didn’t understand. He heard Murtagh speak behind him and he turned to see he was frowning. Then Sionra said something and he scowled even harder.

Regulus tried to shake her off, he needed to get out of her grasp or this was going to end up with Murtagh in the infirmary again.

But her grip was strong, far stronger than it ought to be, and then she turned to say something to him, her eyes pleading, and Regulus felt alarm run through him, he didn’t know what she wanted from him.

He felt Murtagh come up behind him and say something in a steady tone, she snarled at him, but then the Queen repeated the same thing.

Regulus gave another tug, he tried to repeat what Murtagh had said, and it must have worked because Sionra let go, a shocked look on her face.

He took a quick step back before she could collect herself enough to grab him again, and he called for his dragon with his mind. She came quickly, which he was grateful for, he stooped and swept her up into his arms.

She didn’t really seem to understand why he was upset, and he was in no mood to try and explain.

Murtagh had moved in front of him to argue with Sionra, and Regulus felt a quiet terror run through him because Tazuz had come up behind her and this was going to be a fight in a few more moments. He looked desperately to the queen, she had joined the argument and was trying to separate the pair, but Murtagh was ignoring her.

So Regulus grabbed his arm.

Murtagh whipped his head back to look at Regulus, surprise stretching across his handsome face. He always looked surprised when Regulus touched him unprompted, and Regulus filed that thought away for another time.

He tugged at Murtagh’s arm again and felt a quiet sense of triumph when Murtagh took a step away from Sionra.

This gave the queen a chance to get even farther between the pair. She said something to Murtagh, Regulus assumed it meant go, and he nodded, even as Sionra growled something, her voice pitching angrily.

Murtagh turned back to face her, a scowl on his face, and Regulus jerked on his arm. He blinked at Regulus curiously, and Regulus took the opportunity to drag him, he was silently grateful when Murtagh moved.

The man was nearly a foot taller than him and seemed to weigh twice as much as Regulus, if he hadn’t wanted to then there would’ve been no way Regulus could’ve moved him.

Sionra yelled some sort of taunt at Murtagh’s back, and Regulus tightened his grip on his arm to keep him from turning around and getting another ass kicking.

They walked for a ways before Regulus realized two things; one, he had no idea where they were going, and two, he still had a grip on Murtagh’s arm, it was a very muscular arm.

The moment the thought reared its ugly head Regulus dropped his grip and shoved the thought down with vision embarrassment. The baby dragon (and she really did need a name) prodded at his mind sleepily; he was so distracted by her sleepy questions that he didn’t notice they had stopped.

That was until Murtagh tapped his shoulder. He glanced up and found Murtagh looking down at him, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

It made something squirm in Regulus’ stomach. He offered Murtagh a smile he hoped didn’t look as awkward as he felt.

Murtagh smiled back. Then he gestured for Regulus to follow him. They walked as the shadows lengthened around them, Regulus hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, but now he felt an exhaustion creeping up on him, and he was glad to be done with the day’s activities.

They came upon the residence they were staying at and Regulus greeted Thorn happily when the red dragon raised his head from where he’d been napping, glad to be away from all the crazy. 

***

Much later, when Regulus had gone to bed Murtagh sat leaning against Thorn’s back, staring up at the stars.

“What are we going to do Thorny?” he asked tiredly. “We can’t ignore a summons from the human king.”

“No,” Thorn agreed quietly. The messenger had arrived after Regulus had gone to train with the other riders, and Murtagh had been feeling on edge all day.

“I can’t go back to that place.” He admitted quietly, the very thought brought a suffocating feeling and dark memories of blood and pain.

“Breath,” Thorn murmured, and Murtagh felt selfish, he knew this was affecting Thorn too.

“I’m so sorry Thorny, I thought we’d never have to go there again.”

Thorn hummed, “I know.”

“They're never going to give this up, until we prove we’re,” Murtagh continued, “why can’t they just leave us in peace?” he asked his friend desperately.

“I don’t know,” Thorn said quietly, “but what can we do? We must go.”

“I know.” Murtagh agreed, “I just wish there was a way out of this…”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it would take me a while to update, but I had a lot of inspiration, so here we go. Thank you for taking the time to read it. Also, leave me a comment, I'd love to hear people's thoughts :)


	4. Illrea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Slams hand on table* "I'M BACK!" 
> 
> So, for those of you wondering what happened, I was slammed by deadlines and essays and the bottom line is college is hard.

Murtagh was standing in the throne room of Ilirea’s castle.

Regulus was standing a few feet away from him, with his arms wrapped around himself. A man was sitting on the throne, crown on his head. He was dark-skinned, and his hair was graying at the temples. He pointed his sceptre at Regulus.

“We have made our decision. Take him away.” He commanded, and two guards, dressed in court finery, took hold of Regulus’ arms. He shot an alarmed look over his shoulder at Murtagh.

Beside the man on the throne, another man smirked, his skin was lighter, and he had a self-satisfied air about him.

Murtagh felt panic race through him as Regulus was dragged away.

***  
Murtagh jolted forward, sweat cooling on his skin, as he tried to calm his breathing.

He shoved the blankets off and walked out of the room. The air was cold and when he stepped outside the sky was gray. 

Out here there was only the sounds of the forest, bird calls and leaves rustled by the wind. For a moment Murtagh tried to pretend he was back in the deep woods with Thorn, away from all the prying eyes and prophetic dreams and…

Mysterious boys who seemed to get into far to much trouble for their own good. 

Murtagh wondered to himself why he even bothered trying to stay out of trouble anymore. Clearly, it would find him whether he wished it or not.

He ran a hand through his hair raggedly and tried to calm the hysteria slowly building in his chest.

Regulus was in danger yet again. Murtagh was sure, even though he’d never seen the man on the throne, it was Nasuada’s grandson, Ajihad the third. 

And Murtagh had no idea how to protect Regulus from the man. Because it could be anything, from an actual issue to the king deciding Regulus’ loyalty to Murtagh was dangerous, anything could cause the king to send Regulus to the dungeons.

Murtagh gave a quiet growl and turned sharply on his heel. He moved back into the house and glanced around.

He found the sword Arya had lent him and returned with it outside.

The repetitive motions of the practice swings helped him calm down. It gave him something to focus on as he tried to organize his scattered thoughts.

Regulus was going to run afoul with the king one way or another. One solution would be not to take him to the capital at all, but Sionra’s seething glare was still fresh in his memory. Leaving Regulus and his little dragon to her mercy was out of the question. 

So he’d just have to make sure Regulus wouldn’t upset the king. Which would probably work, because Regulus didn’t seem especially hot-headed? Actually, from the way he had frantically dragged Murtagh away from another fight with Sionra, he likely wouldn’t intentionally start a fight.

So that meant something else then, which made Murtagh tense and swing his sword especially hard. Because Murtagh couldn’t protect Regulus if the king had already decided to lock him up. But from the dream, the king sounded as though he’d just made up his mind on the matter, so that might not be it.

No, it had to be the smug man behind him. Something about him rubbed Murtagh the wrong way. He’d have to watch out for him and keep Regulus away from him.

A squeak caused Murtagh to whirl sword pointed at the sound. Only to come face to face with Regulus, who was clutching his dragon to his chest. The boy’s eyes were crossed as he stared at the sword inches from his nose.

Murtagh let out a soft laugh and lowered his sword. 

“Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a man with a sword?” 

Regulus gave him a smile, the one Murtagh was coming to understand meant he had no idea what Murtagh had said but was pretending he did.

So Murtagh snorted and clamped Regulus on the shoulder as he walked past. He could hear Regulus’ quite footsteps following after him.

In his mind, he could feel Thorn’s amusement. 

“What’s so funny Thorny?” he asked as he leant the sword against the wall. 

“Nothing…” Thorn dismissed, “how was your practice?” 

“Well enough, hopefully, I’ll be good enough for a rematch with that obnoxious dwarf.”

“Must you?” Thorn asked, 

“Must I what? Prove I’m no pushover?” 

“Get into another pointless fight.”

Murtagh rolled his eyes, and dug around in the cupboards of the house, he found a loaf of bread and a ripped off a hunk. 

“It’s not pointless,” he told Thorn as he handed the rest of the loaf to Regulus, “If I don’t prove messing with us is a bad idea, then we’ll be beset upon by every half-wit in the land with something to prove.”

“Does that include you?” Thorn fixed Murtagh with a pointed look.

“Me? A half-wit?” Murtagh snorted and crossed his arms, “it wounds me you think so little of me.”

Thorn snorted but didn’t comment. 

Instead, he stretched from his position lying on the floor and wandered outside, “I’m going to find something to eat, try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Murtagh called after him, “trouble finds me!”

“Mhm..sure it does.” And with that Thorn launched himself into the air. Murtagh watched him until he was a tiny spec of red in the grey of the sky.

He turned and found Regulus tossing chunks of bread into the air for his dragon to catch, a delighted grin on his face.

Murtagh snickered, and Regulus seemed to remember his presence, shooting him an embarrassed look when he realized he was being watched.

But that lasted only a moment before the dragon gave an angry squawk and his attention returned to tossing bread chunks.

Murtagh decided to leave them to it, and he headed off to have a bath, the sweat from the nightmare and the work out earlier had dried, and it made him feel gross.

*** 

“I see trouble found you,” Thorn remarked as he observed Arya. She’d come an hour after he’d left and Murtagh was silently grateful it had only taken him a few minutes to return when he’d called him through their bond.

Because it was so very awkward sitting across from Arya and her silent judgment.

Regulus, bless him, had seemed to realize something was wrong and had managed to distract her until Thorn had arrived.

“I told you so,” Murtagh told Thorn solemnly. “It’s not my fault trouble finds me so attractive.” Thorn snorted in amusement.

“Fair enough.” he turned his head toward Arya, “How can we help you, your majesty?”

“You have been summoned to the capital by the high king Ajihad.” 

Murtagh crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, “High King? That quite a lofty title.”

Arya gave him an unamused look, “It was his grandmother’s title before him.”

“Fair enough.” Murtagh tried to shove the guilt about Nasuada down. “He say when we have to be there?”

“I will be escorting you,” Arya answered, and Murtagh rolled his eyes. “Ah, how foolish of me to think anything else.”

Arya didn’t respond, just watched Murtagh until he sighed, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. Now if you will excuse me, Regulus and his dragon have training to complete.” She turned on her heel and gestured for Regulus to follow. 

He scooped up his dragon and waved to Murtagh as he left. Murtagh waved back with an amused smile on his face.

When Regulus turned back around, he let the smile drop from his face.

“Why does that boy always manage to get into trouble?” he asked with bemusement, “He doesn’t start fights, and he’s hardly an idiot. So why do I always seem to be rescuing his arse?”

“You saved him once, and you don’t know why he was in the cave in the first place.” Thorn pointed out.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Murtagh said indignantly. “He’s going to get himself locked up.”

“How do you know that?” Thorn asked. 

“Because I’ve seen it in my dreams twice already” Murtagh snapped. “He’ll do something, and I haven’t the faintest idea what.”

Thorn nodded, “well then, how do we keep him out of trouble?” 

Murtagh sighed, “I don’t know…” he ran a hand through his hair, “all likelihood it’ll happen no matter what we do.”

“Then we won’t take him to the capital.” Thorn sounded so confident, but Murtagh shook his head. 

“No, I’m not leaving him here, who knows what they’ll do to him.” he felt Thorn’s displeasure, and he looked up at his dragon, “what’s wrong?”

“You should be more trusting,” Thorn told him.

“What?” Murtagh saw sorrow in Thorn’s eyes. 

“Arya is not plotting against us, she could have hunted us down at any time,” Thorn continued, “instead she let us be, and she helped us when you first found Regulus,”

“Because she wanted us to be indebted to her,” Murtagh argued. Thorn gave him a disappointed look.

“Have you ever considered that not everyone is out to get you?” Murtagh gritted his teeth. His pulse pounded in his ears.

“I know that, but better to be cautious than dead.”

“Oh yes, so cautious you have been these last few days, starting fights and antagonizing those with the power to hurt us.”

Murtagh clenched his fists, his shoulder tensing, “That’s what this is about then, you’re still upset about that duel?”

“No.” 

“You are,” Murtagh pressed, “I was defending our honour. Doesn’t it make you angry when they call you a monster?”

“No, let them talk, I know I am no monster,” Thorn shuffled angrily, “but what I don’t know is why you wish to fight every moment.”

“I don’t want to fight every moment.” Murtagh denied.

“You do, I hear your thoughts, I feel your anger.” 

“So what if I’m angry, they think we’re monsters,” he swept an arm out “they don’t like us, would see us dead and not bat an eyelash.”

“Well your behaviour isn’t helping change their minds,” Thorn thought sharply, “how is raging about going to make anyone like us?”

“They’re never going to like us Thorny” Murtagh didn’t know how to make his friend see sense, “no matter what we do, we will never be welcome. That’s why the only way we’ll survive is proving we’re not to be trifled with”

“How do you know we’ll never be welcome? You don’t even try. Aren’t you tired of being alone?” 

A bitter feeling settled over Murtagh, “aren’t you angry Thorn? Don’t you feel as though at any moment you could rend the sky and burn the entire world to ashes?” he asked quietly. “I know you felt the same way once.”

“That was a long time ago, I’ve let the pain go, I thought you had too.” 

Murtagh snorted, “Clearly not,” He could feel Thorn’s pitying gaze on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

“What if all I am is angry?” He asked quietly, “what if I am exactly what they think I am? If fighting is all I’m good for.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

Murtagh looked up, his eyes stinging slightly, “no?”

“You saved Regulus, you protected me the best you could. I know you think you are bad, broken, but you are not. You are just someone who has suffered so very much.”

Murtagh gave a humourless smile. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but we both know that’s not true.”

He turned away, the bitter feeling was clawing its way up his throat, and his eyes continued to burn. 

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you later.”

He felt Thorn shift and for a moment thought his dragon would follow him,

“Stay out of trouble.” 

Murtagh snorted, “will do.”

***

In the end, he wandered without any set destination in mind. Only the feeling that something dangerous was brewing on the horizon that he could not place his finger on.

To himself, he debated and re-debated taking Regulus to the capital. If he could, he would have taken them all and run away, back into the forest never to see another soul ever again. Just the four of them, it sounded simple enough, yet Murtagh knew it was an impossible dream. Nevermind the king’s summons, no one would stand for Murtagh taking Regulus and his dragon anywhere without supervision. That was the crux of the problem really, Regulus was an unknown, and any sane person would want to keep unknowns control as best they could.

Regulus was a mystery, Murtagh liked to think he knew more than the others, but really he only knew the surface. Whatever lurked behind Regulus’ eyes was something he had yet to unravel. Murtagh was fairly sure the loyalty Regulus showed him was merely out of a sense of self-preservation, but he liked to think Regulus was fond of him.

And maybe that was why he thought the boy was so harmless because he wanted to keep the one person who didn’t know his misdeeds and who didn’t see the monster he was. It was a selfish thing, but Murtagh couldn’t find it in him to feel shame for it.

If Regulus stayed behind, he would learn that Murtagh was no one to befriend.

He jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of footsteps in front of him. He glanced up to find Regulus a few feet away, his dragon a step behind him. 

Regulus gives him a curious smile, but Murtagh felt an anxious feeling settle over him. No matter what, he needed a way to protect Regulus from the king.

But he knew that what he saw in the dreams, the ones that repeated and felt so real, what happened in them would come to pass.

Murtagh had always wondered if there was such a thing as fate. 

A cold feeling washed over him. If there was an inescapable fate… then he had always been meant to play the part of the villain. 

Suddenly all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, and for a moment the world seemed to close in.

“...Murtagh…” Regulus’ voice sounded far away, and loosely Murtagh was aware of how he came closer. 

There was a flash of silver, and then a sharp pain on his face. The world came back into focus, and he saw Regulus scolding his dragon in his own language.

Murtagh realized he’d never heard him raise his voice before. It was almost comical how much Regulus sounded like a nagging mother. 

His dragon yawned, and that sent him into an even louder tirade. 

Blood began to roll down Murtagh’s face, and he raised a hand to poke at it. He judged from the stinging at the bridge of his nose, that was where the damage was. He prodded at the area lightly and winced from the sharp pain, which brought on another wave.

He murmured a word to heal the injury. It healed quickly enough, the bite had been shallow. He wiped his bloody fingertips on his pant leg and looked to where Regulus continued to scold. His dragon looked somewhat ashamed now, ducking its head and wings drooping. 

“Don’t you think you’ve chastised the poor thing enough?” Regulus jerked his head to look at Murtagh, 

“Ahh…” he made a gesture to Murtagh’s face, shifting his dragon into a one-armed hold, and reaching out. But he hesitated before he actually did, fingers curling and brows furrowing. 

Murtagh snorted and wiped away excess blood, “look, all healed? She just took a nibble.”

Regulus blinked and mumbled incredulously, “nibble?” Murtagh felt a grin stretch its way across his face. It was rather amusing to watch as Regulus tried to learn their language. Regulus leaned up to get a closer look, and this close Murtagh noticed several small freckles had appeared on the bridge of his nose.

Then he went cross-eyed trying to look at Regulus gently prodded the bridge on his nose. Regulus gave a quiet hum of satisfaction and settled back onto his heels. He gave Murtagh a half smile that Murtagh returned.

Murtagh held out a hand gesturing from Regulus to lead the way, “Shall we?” Regulus nodded, and they set off down the path back to the house.

***

“You really can’t go one hour without some sort of trouble can you?” Thorn commented dryly as he eyed the dried blood on Murtagh’s face.

“In my defence, I didn’t get this from a fight,” Murtagh told him. 

“Oh? Pray tell where did this injury come from then?” Thorn asked, annoyance bleeding through the bond.

“She bit me,” He didn’t need to clarify who she was. 

Thorn let out a loud sigh. “Of course she did.”

Murtagh huffed and walked past Thorn into the house. Behind him, he could hear Regulus’ voice as he spoke to Thorn, but Murtagh paid it no mind as he searched for a rag.

He had just found one when Regulus entered. Murtagh nodded at him and dunked the rag into the water pitcher on the counter. He scrubbed at his face, and from the corner of his noticed Regulus watching him with a contemplative look. 

“I miss a spot?” he asked. 

Regulus blinked, then gestured to the left side of his nose, “here…no… here” he continued to gesture but eventually seemed to become frustrated because he walked closer and took the rag from Murtagh. 

“So,” Murtagh began, “what’s bothering you?” Regulus blinked up at Murtagh.

“No thing…?” 

Murtagh gave him a wry look. “Really.” 

Regulus frowned and pressed his lips together, then he looked up again, “Are… you and Thorn… ugh” his eyes darted down as he tried to find the word, “... angry?” 

“Oh, that,” Murtagh smiled, “we need to go to see the king, and we’re having some logistical complications.” 

“The king of where?” Regulus asked.

“The human king.” Murtagh told him, “like us” he gestured to himself and then to Regulus.

“Oh!” Regulus brightened, “like us?”

Murtagh snorted and leaned back against the counter, “what did you think that the dwarf the urgal and I were all funny looking elves?” 

Regulus scrunched up his face as he tried to translate Murtagh’s words, mouthing them quietly. 

Murtagh waited for him, an amused smile on his face. He supposed Regulus really couldn’t have known that there were other humans in the world. He wondered about what it would be like to live in a world without any people like him.

Eventually, Regulus refocused, “when...ah... go?”

Murtagh shrugged, “soon.” That didn’t seem to be the answer Regulus was looking for because he gestured with his hands, “when…umm… we” 

Oh. 

“You want to come?” Murtagh felt the worry from earlier settle itself like a cloak over him. 

“Yes.” Regulus nodded.

Delight warred with guilt in Murtagh. He didn’t want to tell him about the dreams, didn’t know if Regulus would believe him.

So he said instead “It’ll be dangerous if you go.” 

“Why?”

Murtagh opened his mouth, trying to grasp for an explanation that wouldn’t involve his monstrous past or the prophetic dreams.

But he was saved from the effort by Regulus’ dragon tumbling through and squawking at them.

“She’s hungry” Regulus explained as he began to rummage in the cupboards.

Murtaugh huffed in relief, and he walked past them towards Thorn.

His dragon raised his head as Murtagh approached. 

“Looks like all that arguing was for nothing, Regulus says he wants to come.”

“Did you warn him about your dream?” Thorn asked.

Murtagh shook his head. “No, but he knows there’ll be danger.” 

“You should tell him about your dreams,” Thorn suggested.

“And make him think I’m trying to keep him from coming?”

“But those dreams saved his life, surely he won’t take offence from a very real warning?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Murtagh folded his arms, “for all I know, what happened in the dreams was because we didn’t take him with us.”

“Perhaps, but are you willing to wager his freedom on that chance?” and that gave Murtagh pause. Was he really willing to risk Regulus’ life and safety on his own hunches? 

Hardly. 

“I need another opinion about this.” He started to walk down the path in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” Thorn questioned, even though he knew the answer through their bond.

“To see someone who actually can help me.” Murtagh called over his shoulder, “if Regulus asks, tell him I’ve gone to see Arya.”

***

“Why did you not tell me you had another dream?” Arya asked as she folded her arms and fixed Murtagh with a searching gaze. 

“I didn’t think they were all that important.” He lied.

“Oh truly? Even though the last one proved to be true?” her tone told him she didn’t believe him a whit.

He shrugged, “It doesn’t matter anyhow, seems to me he’ll be in trouble no matter what I do.”

She frowned at him, “have him stay here.”

He shook his head, “no, he says he wants to come, no use telling him to stay put.”

Arya let out an angry sigh, “You still distrust me, that is the heart of the issue. I don’t know how to prove to you I mean you no harm.”

“Can’t a man be paranoid in peace?” He asked. 

Arya shook her head, she dropped her arms and walked past Murtagh. 

“It seems you have already made up your mind. I will see you in the morning when we depart.”

Murtagh mumbled under his breath, “great talk thanks a lot” at her retreating back.

Tomorrow they would head to Illrea for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) I hope to have another chapter up by the 20th.


	5. In which things inevitable go wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, I was slammed with papers, and then exams and everything was kind of crazy for a while, but! I'm not giving up on this story. I have the entire thing outlined and half of chapter six written. I learned my lesson about trying to predict when things will be finished but rest assured they will get done.
> 
> uh, just as a warning, things get kinda heavy, because Murtagh and Thorn's past is discussed, and a little bit of Regulus'.

Once upon a time, Murtagh had entertained the silly thought he would never have to see the city of Illrea ever again.

Clearly, the universe took great joy in proving him wrong. But This was no surprise, he had spent his entire life tempting fate, having any hopes crushed and each time returning with the belief that maybe this time things would work out in his favour.

But he was, as always, wrong; and as soon as he saw the city peeking out from under the mountain's ledge, he knew that things were about to go spectacularly downhill.

Thorn, for once, seemed to echo his feelings and the only thing that stopped Murtagh from begging his friend to turn around and flee was the sight of Fíren and Arya ahead of them.

Murtagh felt Regulus lean over and peer around him, which prompting Murtagh to tighten his grip around his wrist to keep him in place. 

He sensed more than saw Regulus glance at him curiously but ignored him, Regulus’ dragon was also squirming around, anxious to move after so long sitting about.

Murtagh shuddered at the thought of her when she was old enough to fly under her own power. With her brashness and Regulus’ non-existent sense of self-preservation when in the air, they were going to give a heart attack. 

The knotting feeling in his stomach worsened as they drew closer to the city and Thorn began to descend.

“Are you ready?” he asked through their bond.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” Murtagh answered him.

They landed in the courtyard. 

Murtagh could feel his stomach in his throat, and the walls seemed to be slowly closing in. He dragged in a breath, and slowly began to dismount.

People were streaming into the courtyard, but he ignored them.

Regulus slid down next to him and reached up to catch his dragon in his arms.

Murtagh could hear whispers, but he tried to ignore them. It didn’t work, and the feeling of so many unfriendly eyes made him even tenser and on edge.

Regulus peered around him, craning his head back to take in the castle and the ridge above it. Murtagh had always hated this city, still had a paranoid fear the ridge would break and ten thousand tons of stone would come down on his head. 

The places where the castle had been destroyed during the final battle with Galbatorix had been repaired, and if Murtagh squinted, he could almost pretend it was somewhere else.

Murtagh looked to Arya, she had dismounted and was speaking with a woman in a blue dress. 

She turned towards them and beckoned him over with a hand wave. 

“King Ajihad is busy at the moment so we will be waiting in a reception room.”

“Busy with what?” Murtagh asked. It seemed strange he would keep a fellow royal waiting, especially one as powerful as Arya.

But apparently, she didn’t mind because she fixed Murtagh with a look. 

So he shrugged and turned to Regulus. 

“You understand?” 

Regulus nodded.

They followed the woman into the castle. As they walked, she kept glancing over her shoulder, apparently trying to be subtle, because every time she saw Murtagh was watching her, her gaze would dart forward.

The room they were led into was obviously designed to impress visitors. Big enough to house both Thorn and Fírnen comfortably and still have room for other dragons. It was covered wall to wall in paintings, and around the seams of the walls, there was intricate moulding. 

The woman bowed out, and then they were left to wait. 

Regulus set his dragon on the ground and then watched as she darted about. 

Arya sighed and settled into one of the chairs. Her actions made it seem like she had been expecting this turn of events. Maybe she had been, after all, it could have been a show of power to make important guests wait. It probably was, Murtagh concluded, meant to help a king who was neither dragon rider or unhuman maintain his status. 

Murtagh crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore the awkward silence. He looked over at the nearest painting, hoping to find something else to focus on, it was a picture of Eragon and the other leaders of the races. His stomach clenched when he looked at Nasuada, she looked regal, and his eyes began to burn.

The entire painting was a ridiculous thing, probably meant as a show of power or some shit.

“Murtagh…” Thorn’s mental voice grabbed his attention, “breath.”

At first, Murtagh didn’t quite know what Thorn was talking about, then he became aware of the aching in his lungs, and released the breath he had been holding.

Turning away from the painting, he looked around desperately for something else to focus on, which was how he became aware of Arya and Regulus’ quiet conversation. 

Arya was trying to explain the niceties of the court to Regulus, and he seemed, not quite confused, more... tense than anything else.

Then another servant entered, announcing that they were to follow her to meet the High King.

Murtagh followed after Arya and Regulus. Their group came up to the golden doors that lead to the throne room.

The doors were the same. The thought cut through Murtagh, and he stopped short. Those stupid, garish, doors were the same.

Thorn nudged him forward, and he began to walk again. Glad none of the others seemed to have noticed his momentary pause.

Then the doors opened, and Murtagh was struck by how different the throne room was.

 

Instead of the dark rock and deep gold decorations, there were large windows that let in the afternoon sun, and the room itself was made from a light grey stone, speckled with some sort of clear gemstone. Where the sun hit, the floor sparkled.

It eased something in him. Made him realize he had subconsciously been expecting to see Galbatorix behind those doors.

But that monster was dead and gone. 

Instead, the man Murtagh had seen in his dream sat upon the throne. He rose and smiled at Arya.

“My esteemed friend, I am deeply sorry for the delay. It brings me great joy to see you once again…” he continued to speak, but Murtagh had tuned him out, it was a standard sort of speech for a court. The man had probably had them delayed on purpose.

Ajihad the third was not a particularly intimidating man. He had none of his grandmother’s natural charisma. He didn’t even really look like her, Murtagh was glad for that. Nasuada was still a sore spot for him.

A mental nudge from Thorn drew Murtagh back to present. He locked eyes with Ajihad, and the man gave a small flinch. Unnoticeable if one was not looking for it, but Murtagh had been. He was aware that the man could cause him one hell of a headache if he decided Murtagh was a threat. 

But then Ajihad smiled, small wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“Rider Murtagh, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” 

Of all the responses Murtagh had been expecting, that had not been one. Likely prompted by the baffled look on Murtagh’s face, Ajihad elaborated, 

“My grandmother spoke highly of you.”

That was finally enough to shake Murtagh form his bewildered state.

“Did she.”He said in a flat tone. He couldn’t imagine what sort of praise Nausuada could have had for her enemy. 

Ajihad’s smile became strained, “yes indeed.”

A squawk from their right broke the tension. It seemed Regulus’ dragon had decided she’d had enough of all this standing around. 

Ajihad’s eyes were drawn to where Regulus was struggling to corral the tiny dragon, hissing at her in his native tongue.

“And who is this?” he asked. 

“A new dragon rider, Regulus Black,” Arya informed him. Murtagh was glad she didn’t seem inclined to mention where Regulus came from. 

He didn’t want to think about how he was supposed to explain Regulus without getting them both locked up and studied.

Ajihad nodded, “yes, I see,” his eyes never left Regulus, who was still struggling. So Murtagh called a low “Regulus.” to get his attention.

Regulus’ eyes darted up to meet his, and Murtagh sent him an amused smirk and a head jerk in the direction of Ajihad. Regulus’ eyes darted to look at Ajihad and Arya, and he flushed, and gave a small bow, murmuring an apology.

Ajihad was watching him with a curious expression, and it made Murtagh uncomfortable. 

“I would speak with you on a private matter.” 

Arya’s interjection was a blessing; it took Ajihad’s attention off them.

“Then, by all means, let us converse,” he waved a hand for her to accompany him closer to the throne. He then waved a dismissive hand at Murtagh and the others,

“You’ll be shown to your rooms,” and a servant appeared from somewhere to lead them there. 

Murtagh shot Arya look, and her returning look caused him to decide to follow the servant.

“C’mon,” he nudged Regulus’ arm, and they followed the man out of the throne room.

“That was not so bad was it?” Thorn asked. Murtagh shrugged, “I suppose not,” he answered mentally, “but don’t let your guard down, we’re not safe yet.”

The servant, just like the one before, was glancing over his shoulder ever so often, but not meeting Murtagh’s eyes.

“Well I’ll be!” a voice rang out from behind them. Murtagh automatically tensed and turned to see a man striding towards them, dressed in finery only a noble could afford, and a broad smile on his face.

“So the rumours are true!” He grinned up at Thorn, and Murtagh was immediately on edge. 

The man turned to Murtagh still grinning, he had very white teeth, and extended a hand, “Artrun of Dras-Leona,” he introduced himself. He had the attitude of someone who expected to be known.

Murtagh remembered the siege of Dras-Leona, remembered being kept awake by yowling cats and remembered a harsh defeat at the hands of the rebellion.

He didn’t shake the man’s hand. And artrun’s became strained.

Regulus gave a quiet hello. 

Murtagh felt an urge to step in front of Regulus as Artrun’s eyes shifted over to him. 

“Well, well, we haven’t had a new rider in some time. I didn’t know they were looking for another one.”

Something about the way he spoke made Murtagh even more anxious. 

“It was unexpected,” Thorn stated. 

Artrun raised an eyebrow, “indeed?” he asked, his smile stretching wide once again, “and why would that be?”

“Don’t tell him anymore” Murtagh yelled through their bond. He could feel Thorn’s confusion and annoyance. “He’s after something, and I don’t want him to decide Regulus and the baby are the way to get it.”

He felt Thorn give a mental sigh but was glad when his dragon gave a meaningless excuse.

“Just that the rider was found so quickly.”

Artrun nodded as if that was an excellent explanation. 

“That sounds like quite the fascinating story; perhaps you could share it over dinner? I would be honoured to host such esteemed figures as yourselves.”

“Sorry,” Murtagh said in fake apology, “we’ve somewhere else to be.” He turned to the servant, who had been trying to fade into the background,

“Can you show us to our rooms now?” he demanded.

The servant nodded, and Murtagh gave Artrun an insincere smile. 

“Maybe some other time.” Then he planted a hand on Regulus’ back and pushed the boy ahead of him, walking away as fast as politeness would allow.

He could feel Thorn’s disappointment and annoyance at his behaviour but ignored it.

*** 

Murtagh is walking through the halls of the castle.

Not as it had been renovated, but as it had been, before, before the last battle.

He sees Regulus walking ahead, and but when Murtagh calls out his name he doesn’t respond.

So Murtagh tries to catch up to him, but no matter how fast he walks he can’t reach him.

So Murtagh breaks into a run, “Regulus!” but he can’t close the gap between them. Regulus is walking, and Murtagh is in a dead sprint, and he, Can’t. Catch. Up. 

“Oh, Murtagh...” he stops dead, ice floods his veins, “aren’t you tired of running? Of fighting?”

Murtagh doesn’t want to turn around. He knows what he’ll see. But his body turns unbidden anyway, and he’s staring into the smiling face of Galbatorix.

“You’re dead,” Murtagh tells him. 

Galbatorix smiles even wider, “I’m sure you wish I were.”

“No,” Murtagh shakes his head, “You are. You are, I saw you die, I helped kill you!”

Galbatorix tilts his head to the side, in that infuriating way of his, the one that makes Murtagh feel as if he’s overreacting, no matter the man before him is a monster in every sense of the word.

“Don’t you think this tantrum has gone on long enough?” Galbatorix asks.

“It's not a tantrum!” Murtagh yells, even as fear slowly claws its way up his throat.

This isn’t real; he’s having a nightmare, Galbatorix is dead, this isn’t real.

“Murtagh, be reasonable, what makes you think I would even lose to a group of poorly prepared children?” He says this the same way a person would say the sky is blue.

“I was there, you died! You’re dead!” Murtagh yells. His hands have clenched into fists, and his pulse is pounding in his ears.

Galbatorix gives a small disappointed sigh. 

“Clearly you don’t want to behave,” he says, as if Murtagh were a small child, “I will be back when you are ready to act like an adult.”

“I am an adult!” Murtagh screams at his retreating back, “And you’re dead!”

But the king pays him no mind.

“-urtagh! Murtagh!”

He jolted awake, he was in his room, sweat-soaked and trying to catch his breath.

“Murtagh-” Thorn’s voice called through his thoughts; he could hear the panic lacing through them.

Everything seemed hazy and in the gloom, Murtagh couldn’t tell if he was still in the dream, or possibly an illusion. 

The door at the end of the room opened, and Regulus darted in, shoeless and rumpled.

Murtagh felt something constrict in his chest, how could he have been so stupid? Was Regulus even real? Was anything? 

“Murtagh don’t -” Thorn’s voice sounded in his mind, but Murtagh ignored it.

He lunged forward, grabbing Regulus by the shirt and shoving him against the nearest wall.

“Prove your it!” he demanded, near yelling, “Prove your real!” 

Because this could have all been some elaborate trick, of course it was, Galbatorix would never lose in such a fashion. He was probably hovering somewhere laughing at Murtagh's delusions.

Murtagh shoved Regulus harder, “prove it!” he yelled again in desperation.

Regulus’ face was scrunched up, and he was clawing at Murtagh’s hands. “Why…! Murtagh!” he was trying to speak, but the words didn’t make any sense.

“Murtagh! Stop!” Thorn roared at him.

But Murtagh wouldn’t, couldn’t, the only way out of the illusion was to find the weak spot. He didn’t know why Galbatorix had put him into one, maybe as punishment for a failed attack. Maybe that was all the past century had been, him stuck in an illusion, and he hadn’t even realized.

The thought made him shove Regulus a third time.

Regulus, who probably wasn’t even real.

Something touched Murtagh’s mental defences, pressed against them for a moment, and then he was lost under s flood of images, sounds and smells.

There’s a woman, she’s tall, or maybe he’s just small, and she’s smiling? He’s taller now standing in a crowd, there’s some sort of metal contraption, big as a house and long, a train his mind supplies, the train to Hogwarts, what is Hogwarts? He’s standing in front of a castle; he’s inside the castle, there are other children, magic, a see-through man is lecturing him on something? It’s not his fault, the man is a ghost he’s dead, they’re dead, it’s a battle there are people fight and bodies on the ground, this is wrong, wrong, a woman is yelling at him to move, Bella, he shouldn’t have said yes, then there’s a man, and he’s so angry, then he’s a turning away, younger still and laughing, Sirius, he’s going to be so angry, there’s only one choice, the Horcrux needs to be destroyed, the cave, thirsty so thirsty, where is the water, hand, inferi, he can’t breathe! There’s a very handsome man above him, why is he smiling?

Murtagh is startled to see his own face. Why is he… oh.

Those were Regulus’ memories. 

Murtagh focused on Regulus’ face, looked at him hard, maybe for the first time.

Regulus was scowling, eyes hard, but he looked frightened more than anything else, like a cornered animal.

Murtagh released his grip and took a step back, pain flared up in his leg, and he looked down to see Regulus’ little dragon had sunken her teeth into his calf.

She had let go when Murtagh had and was now glaring at him in silent reproach. 

He deserved it. Galbatorix wasn’t powerful enough to create an entire world, wouldn’t have been able to come up with the things Murtagh had seen in Regulus’ memories. Wouldn’t have been able to come up with Regulus. He’d been having dreams about him since he’d turned sixteen, that hadn’t been fake, neither had the cave. Why was he so damn stupid?

“Murtagh…” he became aware of Thorn again, hadn’t realized he’d been shutting him out in the first place.

Murtagh couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to face the others.

“Go.”

“Murtagh-” Regulus started,

“Just go,” Murtagh repeated still not looking up.

He felt Regulus brush past him and heard the click of the baby dragon’s claws as she followed after him.

“Oh, Murtagh…” Thorn sighed.

“What’s wrong with me Thorn?” Murtagh asked quietly.

He felt his dragon lean on his head.

“I don’t know,” Thorn told him finally, “but you should heal that bite.”

 

Murtagh gave a dry snort, “I could have seriously hurt him, don’t you think I deserve it?”

“No,” Thorn stated, “I do not.”

“Well we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Murtagh told flippantly.

“I don’t agree, and healing your leg won’t impede your ability to sulk,”

Murtagh glared up at his friend, “I don’t sulk.”

“Hah, that’s a good one.”

“I don’t,” Murtagh repeated in a mock offended tone.

“If that were true then what do you call the last few decades?” Thorn asked in gentle amusement.

“That wasn’t sulking; I was contemplating life.”

“Mmm hmm sure you were.” Thorn’s teasing response made Murtagh laugh despite himself.

“You never complained about it when we were forest,” he accused, and Thorn let out a snort,

“That’s because you would have sulked even more if I brought it up.”

Murtagh scoffed and shoved at Thorn, who laughed at his futile effort. 

“If I’m so unpleasant to be around than why didn’t you leave?” he asked.

“Because I love your dumb sulky self,” Thorn stated, “obviously.”

“I don’t see why, I all I do is get into trouble and hurt people,” Murtagh lamented.

“But you don’t mean to,” Thorn argued.

“Really?” Murtagh drawled, “then what was all that when I had that duel with the dwarf girl?”

“I was worried about you,” Thorn confessed, “you were so angry, and you only look for fights when your upset at yourself.”

“I don’t do that,” Murtagh denied.

“But you do!” Thorn insisted, “you’re doing it now! You’re upset you hurt Regulus, so you’re refusing to heal the bite his dragon gave you!”

“I-” Murtagh opened his mouth to argue, but found he couldn’t come up with a convincing argument. 

“Hhhughhh…” he let out a frustrated sigh, “will it make you happy if I heal the bite?”

“Yes.” 

So he did, settling onto the floor to get a better look at it. The bite wasn’t that deep, but it was bleeding a bit.

“They’re going to be puzzled about the blood on the floor,” he told Thorn.

“That’s a problem for them,” Thorn answered uncaringly.

Murtagh huffed a laugh.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Thorn broke the silence.

“What was going through your head back there?”

Murtagh leaned back, “I don’t know, I thought I was trapped in an illusion…” he dragged a hand down over his face. “I messed up Thorn…”

“Yes, you did.”

Murtagh pulled his knees to his chest, “we shouldn’t have come, we should’ve grabbed Regulus the moment he awoke and run back into the forest.”

“We wouldn’t have made it very far.” 

“No?” Murtagh laughed, “no, I suppose not,” he sighed, “I don’t want Regulus to be afraid of me.”

It was an awful feeling, to think Regulus would fear him, might even hate him.

“Then you should apologize,” Thorn told him bluntly. “Explain your actions.”

“What makes you think he’d forgive me?” Murtagh asked tiredly.

“He cares for you,” Thorn replied, “and he seems to favour our company over the others, he wouldn’t have insisted on coming with us if he didn’t.”

“Maybe he did, but he certainly doesn’t feel that way now,” Murtagh grumbled.

Thorn gave a huff, “I think you underestimate him, he’s not stupid if you explain you were having a nightmare he’ll probably understand.”

“Will he though?” Murtagh asked, dull anger creeping into his tone, “what happens when he asks about the nightmare? Am I supposed to think he’ll understand all the atrocities I’ve committed as Galbatorix’s attack dog?”

Thorn was silent. Murtagh snorted in irritation, “that’s what I thought.”

“Fine,” Thorn was getting angry too, “don’t tell him anything, but you should apologize at least.”

Murtagh grunted, and they were quiet for a long while after that.

Finally, he broke the silence again, “I don’t want him to hate me Thorn, but he will if he ever finds out about my past,” he explained quietly.

“Then I suppose he will hate me as well.”

Murtagh looked up at his friend in alarm, “no he won’t, it wasn’t your fault!”

“It wasn’t your fault either,” Thorn replied, “that monster had our true names,”

“But I was the one who gave in, I was too weak, I should have died before I gave up to him,” Murtagh whispered guilt clawing at him even after a century.

“No. You saved me; you fought back when it mattered.” Thorn argued, “anyone would have given in under torture.”

Murtagh shook his head but didn’t respond.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Thorn said quietly, “I’m glad you chose to save me. It breaks my heart that you feel this way about yourself.” Through their bond, Murtagh could feel his dragon’s affection and love.

Murtagh drew in a shaky breath, his eyes were becoming wet, and he felt choked up.

“Thanks, Thorny, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)


	6. Rising Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Language barriers continue to annoy Regulus.

Regulus’ back ached where Murtagh had shoved him against the wall. 

When he had heard the yelling from the room opposite him, Regulus had assumed the worst. He hadn’t expected to find Murtagh wide-eyed and unhinged.

Regulus hadn’t understood what the other man had been yelling, not until Thorn had frantically explained it to him.

Showing Murtagh his memories had been a last-ditch effort; when he couldn’t find the words to reach the other.

Now that it was over he felt an uncomfortable vulnerability settle over him; it made him wish he still had his wand, so he could erase the memories he had shown Murtagh from the other’s mind.

But he didn’t, so Regulus settled onto the floor and leaned against the bed, dragging his knees to his chest and burying his head in his arms.

The little dragon nudged her snout against his side, but he ignored her. She didn’t like that and bumped into him harder, all while prodding at his mind insistently.

Eventually, he couldn’t ignore her anymore, with a frustrated sigh he raised his head and fixed her with an exasperated look.

“What?” 

She blinked her eyes and tilted her head, then darted forward and nudged her face against his.

He felt a wave of protectiveness and affection wash over him.

“Alright, alright, thank you,” he murmured as he stretched out his legs so she could climb into his lap.

“Oomph, you’re getting heavy,” he told her when she had settled. She was the nearly the size of a dog.

She fixed him with a judgemental look, and he sighed, “I suppose that was uncalled for… but it’s true; someday you’ll be too big to sit in my lap.”

He felt a whine of disappointment fill his thoughts and a low “nooo,” which caused him to blink down at her in surprise.

“You can speak?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yesnoalittle” was the response, then “learning.”

Regulus let out a quiet “oh.” he felt her pride in her ability to communicate.

“Is this a recent development?” he asked.

“Learning,” she replied. 

“Well that’s good,” he told her, then a thought occurred to him, “if you understand me, then do you understand English?” 

“Both,” she told him.

“Fascinating.”

She hummed in satisfaction.

“I don’t suppose you understood what happened in the other room?” he asked.

“He want to knowmake sure if you’er real?” she offered, and Regulus felt her confusion. 

“Why would he think I wasn’t real?” Regulus wondered.

“Scared” She offered,

“Yes, but scared of what?”

“Nodon’t know.”

“Hmm,” Regulus pressed a had to his face in thought, “it looked like he wasn’t fully awake, maybe a nightmare?”

“Yesyes, Thorn says stop, but he’s notlisten.”

“Right,” Regulus murmurs, he wondered what Murtagh could be afraid of, and felt… worry. Which was so odd; why did Regulus feel such worry for a man he had only known for a week and a half at best.

“likelovewant,” the little dragon told him,

“No!” Regulus denied giving her a scandalized look.

“Yes,” she insisted.

“NOo.” He told her.

“Lie yes” she shot back.

He fixed her with a glare, but she held his gaze unblinking. Finally, he scowled, “fine, yes I do think he’s attractive, but. Nothing more.”

“Likelovewant” she repeated smugly, even as he continued to scowl at her.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He told her, and though he could feel she didn’t quite understand why she nodded solemnly,

“Secret?” she asked.

“Exactly.” 

A yawn gripped him, and she yawned in turn. 

“C’mon,” he mumbled, “might as well try to get some more sleep.

She nodded and followed him when he climbed onto the bed, curling next to him when he settled down.

He studied her, and she stared back at him.

“I don’t suppose you’ve named yourself?” he asked.

“Deciding” she answered.

“Fair enough.”

***

Regulus woke to his dragon nudging him. He groaned and rolled over, but that didn’t deter her.

“Waaake uuuppp, wakeupwake up” she demanded.

“Alright, alright,” he sat up and immediately winced.

“Ah, damn it,” he murmured, “is there a mirror around here?”

“Why?” she asked him.

“I wanted to see if I have bruises on my back,” he told her.

“I look?” she offered.

“Yeah, good idea,” he pulled off the sleep shirt he’d been given, “how is it?”

He saw a vision his own back.

“Is that how you see things?” he asked her. There were bruises on his back, but they didn’t seem to bad.

“Yes,” she told him. 

“Huh” 

There was a knock at the door.

Regulus pulled his shirt back on, “who do you suppose that is?” he asked as he made his way to it. When he opened the door, he found himself face to face with Murtagh, who looked miserable.

He had dark bags under his eyes, and they were reddish like he had been crying.

“Hello?” Regulus asked.

“Oh, Regulus…” Murtagh breathed out “I’m so sorry.”

“I…” Regulus didn’t know what to say to him. “Okay? Worried him?” his dragon offered.

“I’m alright,” Regulus told him in the world’s language.

Murtagh nodded, but he didn’t smile, so maybe he didn’t believe him.

“Hurt him more I bite you more,” the little dragon told Murtagh, and that did get a tired smile out of him. 

He looked back a Regulus, “are you hurt?” he asked. 

Regulus shook his head and gave him a half smile.

“Bruises” the little dragon piped up, and she gave Murtagh an accusing glare.

“Shush you,” Regulus told her. But her words had caused Murtagh to deflate, he looked dismayed, and Regulus didn’t want to see that expression on his face. 

“Not so bad,” he told him, but Murtagh didn’t look convinced.

“Ugh,” Regulus made a frustrated noise and took a step back, gesturing for Murtagh to come into the room, “come.” 

When he did, Regulus shut the door behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, “see? Not bad” he told Murtagh as he twisted around to show him.

When he didn’t get a response, he turned his head and found Murtagh staring at his back with an utterly sorrowful expression.

“Murtagh?” he asked.

But Murtagh didn’t respond, just raised a hand and murmured the healing spell he had used before. 

Regulus felt the spell take effect, so he didn’t say anything more, just looked away.

A hand on his back startled him, and he looked back up at Murtagh who had been staring intently and who then met his eyes.

Everything was a little warm, and in the morning light, Murtagh’s eyes were a soft shade of brown, like chocolate. 

Murtagh gave him a shy smile, and Regulus returned it, even though his heart was pounding.

Then Murtagh got a faraway look for a moment in his eyes, “Thorn says we need to go,” he murmured. 

Regulus nodded and took a step back, walking to where he had folded his clothing from the previous day. He knew Murtagh was watching him, but he tried to ignore the eyes on the back of his neck.

He scooped up the bundle and turned and walked to the smaller... washroom was what he supposed it was and shut the door behind him.

Once away from the others he let out a sigh and ran a hand down his face, feeling embarrassment wash over him. 

He needed to get himself under control, mooning like some silly schoolgirl was ridiculous. He was a Black; this was not how they behaved.

But, a small voice murmured, who’s going to judge you for this, they probably all think you’re dead.

Regulus silenced the voice forcefully.

When he had finished changing, he returned to Murtagh and the little dragon having a staring contest.

“We go?” he asked.

Murtagh turned from the little dragon, his eyes swept over Regulus, and he nodded.

***

The largest drawback to being in a foreign world Regulus decided was being unable to understand a majority of what was happening around him, even if he could guess at it.

For instance, someone who made both Murtagh and the queen of the Elves tense and worried was coming, and Regulus had no idea why or the significance and he didn’t have the vocabulary to ask.

After the message had been delivered, the Queen and Murtagh and their dragons had launched into what Regulus assumed was a heated discussion of their options to… whatever was coming.

Not that anyone would tell him anything. It was frustrating, being kept in the dark and his dragon felt the same.

He had tried to ask Murtagh, but the man had waved him off without explanation and continued to argue.

So now he was left sitting with his dragon and watching the others argue about… something, he only understood about a quarter of the words, but from their tones, it sounded like trouble.

“Enemy? Angry notgood,” his dragon offered, she had been trying to translate, but she didn’t quite understand the concepts enough to properly convey them. 

The sound of raised voices brought Regulus back to the present; he looked up to see Murtagh growling something at the Queen, Regulus couldn’t really follow the worlds coming out of his mouth.

The Queen wasn’t actually yelling, but she was scowling and speaking in a tense tone as if any minute she could begin to do so.

Her green dragon, Fírnen, interjected something, and whatever it was it set Murtagh off. His hands clenched into first, and he bared his teeth in a snarl.

The Queen raised her hands and said something that made the colour drain from his face. His shoulders reared back, and the fight seemed to leave him.

“Hurt, feud, badangry” the little dragon tried to explain. 

“What do you mean feud?” Regulus asked her mentally. He felt her grasp for an explanation.

“Murtagh and I killed the former king of the dwarves,” Thorn answered in her stead. Thorn was the easiest for Regulus to understand, maybe because of the way he communicated mentally.

 

Regulus jerked his head up to give the other dragon an alarmed look.

“What?” he asked aloud, then shoot a quick look at the others worried they had heard his outburst, but they seemed more wrapped up in their argument.

“A long time ago,” Thorn told him “and not willingly” he added.

“Oh.” Regulus had so many questions, they swirled about in his mind, but half of them seemed far too intrusive. 

“Why?” his dragon asked for him, and he winced at her bluntness.

“An evil man made us,” Thorn answered, seemingly unperturbed by her direct question. 

That made Regulus’ blood run cold, he should have realized, but he felt stupid for not thinking that this world had its own version of the unforgivables. 

“But.. then why a feud?” he finally asked. 

“The king had a nephew, Orik, who is king now,” Thorn told him. 

Regulus was unnerved that a person under the control of another would be blamed. 

The little dragon bumped her head into his leg, 

“Better now, will bite,” she told him. 

Regulus huffed a little laugh; he wasn’t sure how much help they’d be in a fight.

“You learn, and I grow” she sounded so sure of herself that Regulus couldn’t help but agree.

Murtagh's voice was rising again, he looked so angry, but not the fearful rage he’d been in last night. 

Regulus wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened.

“He did apologize right?” Thorn asked as if sensing Regulus’ thoughts.

“Yes, I wasn’t hurt badly, and he healed the bruises,” Regulus answered him.

“He hurts Regulus more, I bite more,” the little said growled at Thorn, puffing up to look more menacing.

“Good,” Thorn told her. Regulus pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. But his dragon sensed his amusement anyway and butted his leg with her head.

“When I am bigverybig, no more laugh” she warned him.

“Yes yes,” he agreed in English, “I’m sure you will be very intimidating,”

“Right,” she told him proudly, “veryscary.”

He did grin at her then.

“Thorn lets go!” Murtagh yelled angrily; he stomped past Regulus and the little dragon without sparring them a glance.

Thorn let out a loud sigh, “I’ll see you two later, I’ve got to go see what set him off like that,” and he followed Murtagh out of the room.

Which left Regulus and the little dragon with the Queen and her dragon, she was clearly frustrated, and Regulus wondered how she was feeling about this turn of events. She couldn’t have been pleased, after all, she was the one who had helped them and the one who was training Regulus.

If the dwarf king picked a fight with Murtagh, then he was picking a fight with her, because she was the one who was letting Murtagh stay in her kingdom.

Regulus supposed the dwarf king must be very powerful, to be comfortable crossing a woman backed by a dragon, although, considering the way people reacted to Murtagh, maybe he felt his actions would be supported.

But the human king didn’t seem opposed to Murtagh’s presence, but that could have been acting, maybe he was doing so to impress the queen.

She seemed to pick up on Regulus’ worry because she came closer, “Do not worry, all will be sorted out,” she told him.

Regulus nodded, even though he wasn’t so sure about that. He bowed to her and when she nodded, left with the little dragon following at his heels.

As they walked back to their room, thoughts swirled about in his head.

The last time Murtagh had been challenged to a duel by a dwarf it had ended with him severely injured, enough that he needed healing. 

Concern flooded Regulus, what would happen this time? Surely if the dwarf king had such a grudge against Murtagh he wouldn’t let him walk away uninjured, might not let Murtagh walk away at all.

“Thorn ask?” the little dragon suggested.

Regulus looked down at her, “That’s a good idea” he told her. 

So he knocked on the door that led to Murtagh and Thorn’s room. There was no answer, Regulus frowned and knocked a second time, but nothing happened.

“It looks like they’re not here,” he told the little dragon. 

“What now?” she asked, and he shrugged, which seemed to annoy her.

But before she could respond, a voice called out and the man from yesterday, Artrun, came towards them.

In his first impression, he had reminded Regulus of his former professor, Horace Slughorn, a man who made it his business to know all the influential individuals.

But Murtagh hadn’t seemed to like him, so Regulus decided to be on his guard.

Artrun was accompanied by two others, a man and a woman, who were both dressed in finery.

Regulus carefully greeted them, but Artrun spoke an accent that gave Regulus a hard time understanding him.

“I… ugh…” Regulus struggled as he searched for the right words, wishing Murtagh or Thorn were around to translate, “understand know, knew,” the little dragon suggested.

“I’m… not know” Regulus finally offered lamely, Artrun and his companions were clearly amused by his struggle, and Regulus shoved the embarrassment away, they probably wouldn’t fare any better trying to speak English.

“Not… not my language” Regulus tried, and this seemed to translate because Artrun gave an exaggerated nod, a large placating smile on his face.

“Of course,” He answered slower and louder.

“Lady Gliva,” he pointed to the woman, “Lord Clodlit.” 

Regulus could feel the little dragon starting to become annoyed, “no biting” he warned her mentally.

To Artrun and his companions, “Hello,” he greeted.

“Stupid, badstupid” the little dragon responded.

“Where is Murtagh?” Artrun asked him in the same loud and drawn out manner as if he thought Regulus was a slow child.

“Why so loud, thinks wecan’t not hear?” the little dragon asked in irritation.

“It’s a power play,” Regulus told her mentally, “it makes him feel superior,”

“I’m going bite him,” his dragon responded.

“No,” Regulus told her,

“Why not?” she demanded, “stupid making fun us.”

“He’s nobility, you could get into trouble if you bite him now,” Regulus explained, “better to wait until we understand this world and its hierarchies. Then we can make a plan for revenge.”

“Yesyesyes,” the idea of revenge made his dragon very pleased, and Regulus felt quite pleased too.

“Do You Know Where Murtagh Is?” Artrun asked loudly, and Regulus blinked at him, he didn’t actually, so he shrugged.

Artrun’s smile was strained, and the other two looked close to bursting into laughter, he sighed loudly and then turned to the others, and they had a conversation in rapid … whatever the language of this land was called.

“Alagaesian,” his dragon helpfully supplied.

“Thank you,” Regulus told her, and she preened.

“We. Are. Going. To. Find. Murtagh.” Artrun announced to Regulus, “Come.” and with that, he turned on his heel and walked off, his associates following without a glance back. 

“What do you think?” Regulus asked his dragon, “shall we follow them?”

The little dragon considered it for a moment, “finefine” she told him, “to Thorn and Murtagh.”

Regulus nodded, and they set off.

***

Murtagh and Thorn turned out to be rather easy to find, likely by virtue of Thorn being red and very large, all Artrun had to do was ask if anyone had seen them and they were directed to one of the palace’s courtyards.

Murtagh was practicing on a dummy, sword in hand and a grim expression on his face, while Thorn watched. He was very skilled, Regulus had seen him practice before in the elven city, and that had been rather impressive.

The little dragon darted across the courtyard to Thorn, Regulus trailing after her, Artrun and his companions made their way over to Murtagh.

“Hello little one,” Thorn greeted her happily and ducked his massive head closer to her’s.

“HelloHello!” she chattered back, stretching up to meet him.

“You’re getting very good at communicating,” he complimented.

“Thankyou,” she preened.

Thorn turned to look at Regulus,

“And how are you?” he asked,

“Good,” Regulus answered, “How’s Murtagh?”

 

Thorn let out a sigh, “he’s worried, and that’s giving him a temper,” Regulus followed his gaze to see Murtagh scowling at Artrun and the other two. 

Artrun raised a placating had, and Murtagh crossed his arms as he snarled something.

This made Artrun frown, the other lord, Clodlit, responded jabbing a finger in Murtagh’s direction.

 

Murtagh snarled something that made them all huff loudly in offence.

“Oh no...” Thorn sighed, and when he saw Regulus’ questioning look elaborated “he’s just insulted them, I’m going over to do damage control.”

So Regulus and the little dragon trailed after Thorn.

Artrun was jabbing a finger at Murtagh who was scowling deeply.

When Thorn entered the conversation, the anger on Artrun’s face faded and Murtagh’s expression became petulant.

Thorn’s words seemed to soothe whatever insult Murtagh had done to Artrun, but Regulus had a feeling that they would have to deal with the fallout of this eventually; men like Artrun didn’t suffer blows to their pride gracefully.

“I thank you for Sir dragon, you are wise and gracious, and I look forward to our future friendship,” Artrun spoke aloud, he seemed deeply pleased about something, he bowed in an exaggerated manner to Thorn, his companions following suit.

Then they all strolled out of the courtyard, and Regulus watched them go, worry pooling in his gut, when they were out of sight he turned back to Murtagh and Thorn. Both of whom were locked in a silent debate.

Judging from the angry scowl on Murtagh’s face, it was not something pleasant.

Finally, Murtagh growled and stomped away to return to hacking at the dummy.

Regulus turned to look up at Thorn, “everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, Murtagh is just afraid to speak to others,” Thorn told him. Murtagh’s shoulders jerk and he whirled around, “I’m not afraid! I don’t want to have dinner with that-” Regulus wasn’t sure what the last word meant, but judging from Murtagh’s tone, it wasn’t a compliment. 

“Slimeball” the little dragon translated happily.

“Is he talking about Artrun?” Regulus asked, and Thorn sighed and settled onto the ground, “yes. Lord Artrun has invited all of us to a private dinner. But some people are bent on being unsociable grouches,” he cast a significant glance at Murtagh who scowled again and returned to hacking at the dummy.

“I’m” whack “not” whack” “unsociable” whack “I” whack “just” whack “think” whack “he’s” whack  
“a” whack “slimeball” and with that last word the dummy snapped in half, leaving Murtagh panting with the effort as he stared down at it. 

He sighed and wiped a hand across his face, shoving his hair out of his face. 

“Besides,” he turned around a half smile on his face, “it’s not like I have no friends,”

“Oh?” Thorn asked, and Murtagh grinned, “Regulus is my friend, aren’t you?” he grinned at Regulus, who found he couldn’t speak, and so settled for nodding instead.

“See?” he turned to Thorn, who rolled his eyes and huffed.

Regulus tried to ignore his dragon’s amusement, but she wouldn’t stop laughing at him through their bond.

“Stop that,” he hissed at her through their bond, but that made her laugh even harder.

He glared at her, but it had no effect. 

Murtagh dropped a hand onto his shoulder and when Regulus looked up, inclined his head towards the entrance to the courtyard.

“We should go, we have to go to the diner of doom later,” he joked. Thorn sighed and rose from the ground.

They entered into another silent argument, but Regulus was more focused on the hand Murtagh still had on his shoulder.

It sent jolts down his spine and made his stomach churn the same way it had in the morning. Regulus didn’t know why his emotions were so out of control; he’d never felt this way about anyone before.

The hand on his shoulder moved, and Murtagh gave him a gentle push as he continued to argue with Thorn.

Regulus was glad; he didn’t think he could have hidden the racing of his heart or the flush on his checks if they were paying attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's been established that I cannot estimate when I will be done with chapters, but none the less I will finish this story. I have a full outline, and I'm excited to keep working on it. 
> 
> As for Murtagh and Regulus' relationship, it's a slow burn, a very very slow burn. Y'all have been warned.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and if you feel so inclined, drop me a comment :)


	7. Author's Note

Dear readers,

I know it has been a long time since I've updated. I thought that I could handle writing fanfiction and college at the same time, but I could not. 

In December Christopher Paolini released a new book called The Fork, The Witch, and The Worm: Tales from Alagaësia. It completely shattered my headcanons from the original series, and so I needed some time to consider if I should rewrite my story based on this new information. I've decided that I am going to revise it, to include some of the new information, but also to better edit what I have posted so far. 

I hope to be finished with the edits and the final chapters by the end of this month as I am no longer in school and will have much more time to write. 

Thank you to everyone who has read, given kudos to, or commented on my work. You are all fantastic, and I hope you will take a look at the finished story.

Sincerely,  
Solaris.


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